A Wand With a Veela's Hair Core
by Evelyn JD
Summary: After Voldemort is defeated, Bill is killed and Hermione gets bitten by Grayback. Fleur takes care of her, but after that, she leaves for France. Four years later their paths cross again, in Hogwarst. But why can't Hermione transform during the full moon? Why is Fleur acting like she was during the Tournament? And where in this mess fits the white wand with a Veela's hair core?
1. The War

**Hello, dear readers! **

**I'm not quite sure what to say about this one… I'm excited to hear your opinions on this! I really love Fleur/Hermione, they are perfect together, in my opinion. But I don't like all the 'Veela's designed mate, you have to be together or you'll die' storyline, so this one will be different. How? Well, you'll have to read through it and find out! **

**Again, I apologize for the grammar and spelling mistakes that I'm sure you'll find in this story. When you do, please let me know so I can correct it. Also, please let me know what you think! I want to know if you like or dislike the story and my style of writing; what exactly you like/dislike and why; what could I change according to you… It really helps an author to know all that stuff!**

**Also, I would like to thank PraeclarusWands from DeviantArt for letting me borrow one of pictures of her awesome work! You can find the original picture of the cover image of this story and so much more of the great stuff here: praeclaruswands .deviantart .com (just remove the spaces, I culdn't manage to put in in here as it should be :D) So, again, thanks!  
**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own characters used in this story (apart from a few, Mia Reyes, Trevor and Stephan Moore, and Eva Landern are completely mine), though I really wish I would be able to create characters as great as Hermione and Fleur!

**Now, please, enjoy!**

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_2.5.1998_

_Battle of Hogwarts _

_Hogwarts castle_

I slowly walked out of the half-ruined castle, gripping my wand in my hand. I had to use a silent _Lumos_ spell to see through the darkness all around me. All of the curses, flashes of light, screams and explosions of the fight had made my senses dull. I had a hard time seeing something and my hearing wasn't the best either, I couldn't even hear my own steps through my heart-beat and the annoying whistling in my ears.

I looked up into the sky. It was clouded and dark, almost gloomily so. Almost as if we had lost The War. We didn't, though. We have won. Voldemort was dead. Harry was alive, safe and sound, with his now repaired wand in Headmaster's office; the Weasleys were in the Great Hall, or at least in what remained of it, torn between happiness of our victory and sadness of Fred's death; Order's members were with them, along with most of the Hogwarts students. They were all safe now. The Death Eaters were dead or captured; evil had vanished from this world, from this school. At least for now.

I slowly walked from the castle, eyeing every dead body that was lying on the ground. Tears wetted my cheeks when I saw angry-red hair and nice, a bit sharp features of Tonks' face. It hurt. It hurt my whole being. People I knew, people I grew up with, people I trusted…. people I fared, people I hated, people that had hurt me. It didn't matter which one of them I saw on the grass, it still brought sadness and pain into my chest. All of this, all those lives were lost just because of one psycho who didn't know where he belonged.

I cursed under my breath. I didn't want to cry, but I had no choice. The emotions within me, they broke me, broke the shell I had build up to keep them down. Now they were pouring out of me, through my tears and sobs, onto the ground. All those people… but it was over now. It ended. The madness and killing, it had stopped. We had stopped it. And now, to praise those lost souls their last respect.

I lifted my wand, pointing it to the cloudy sky. I didn't know any spell that would help me in this situation. If I still had my wand, it wouldn't be a problem. My wand would listen to my wishes and the coat of arms of Hogwarts would appear between the clouds. But not this wand. This wand, the wand of one and only Bellatrix Lestrange didn't want to make my desperate wish come true. If only I knew some spell…

A low howling crossed the night.

I lifted my head in bolt-like speed. The darkness, the disobedience of the wand in my hand, the death of so many people, nothing of that seemed important enough anymore. Compared to the sound, it was all trivial, because with that long, blood-freezing howl I knew there was danger somewhere around the castle. I knew that howling, I could recognize it anywhere. Grayback.

My legs moved on their own accord. I knew I had to find the poor guy who stepped in the Werewolf's way. I had to help, before it's too late.

The howling sounded again and this time, I managed to locate it. I ran into the Forest, towards it, towards the man who gave me nightmares.

A loud cry of pain made me run faster. I had a hard time dodging all the trees and branches in my way. My only luck was that I was closer and closer to the cries with every step. The voice of a man who was unfortunate enough to become one of Grayback's victims was full of terror and gloom when it sounded again, close enough for me to notice its somewhat familiar tone. It was desperate calling for help through the cries and low growling. What was the worst; I knew that voice very well.

When I found them, under one of the trees, I froze on the spot. I couldn't bring myself to think, to lift my wand and cast a spell. I was shocked.

There he was, that strange hybrid of a man and a wolf, bent over, biting, tearing, feeding on a young man's body. The man lying on the ground had hair in the color of flames and his half-alive, almost empty eyes were blue like the sky. William 'Bill' Weasley.

I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. The smell of blood, sweat, death and dirt was all around me, making me want to vomit. I felt my body tremble with fear and shock. I thought Grayback was dead. I never expected to see him. After Ron and Neville battled him…

And then, the Werewolf turned his head, his dark-blue eyes shone with sick satisfaction and delight. A knowing twinkle sparked in his eyes, he recognized me.

With a quick, strong bite the wolf ended the life of the person who was like a brother to me. Then he got up and turned towards me again, with a smile on his ugly face. I lifted my wand, getting ready to cast a spell, although I didn't know what spell should I use. My mind was empty, I couldn't think of anything. He took a step towards me and a curse appeared in my mind. I opened my mouth to cast it.

"I don't think so, Mudblood." With that one sentence, he leaped right on top of me, making me fall to the ground with a soft 'thud' and a wave of pain shooting through my back.

"And what exactly is that?" he asked with a mock interest in his voice. I felt the wand being ripped away from my hand. He sat up, straddling my hips so I couldn't move no matter how hard I trashed about and brought my wand close to his face. "A wand? You won't be needing a wand, Mudblood, when I'm done with you. You won't need it at all."

I closed my eyes, trying so hard to not let the tears of sadness, anger, helplessness and fear roll down my cheeks. I could feel him shift slightly, his weigh crushing me like a ton of bricks, his smell of blood, dirt and sweat hit me like a sucker-punch into the stomach. It made me sick.

A loud crack told me that my wand was no more. A weird, sick feeling of happiness sparkled inside of me at the thought that it wasn't really my wand. It belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange, it was the wand that had tortured me and many others. Now it was broken, finally. But that little spark died out in me when I felt a touch of rough hands on my breasts. Fear shot through me like a curse, it made my muscles tighten and I couldn't move at all. My own body betrayed me.

"Such a pretty little girl… for a Mudblood…," he muttered, his voice sounded like a mix of a wolf's growl and a deep rumble of an aroused man. "…it would be a shame to just kill you right away… I can have a little fun with you first…"

I felt his hands, rough and careless, as they ripped the texture of my shirt. His fingers creased my belly, slowly, almost gently. His lips glistered with dark-red blood, I could see the cut he had through his upper lip An evil smirk appeared on his face, the one that told nothing good. And then, his nails like claws scratched my skin, breaking it, making the blood come out. I hissed with pain, my body arched and jerked in a desperate attempt to get away from him. I heard a low chuckle filled with satisfaction and growing need.

"It's almost shame that I have to kill you… Maybe I could keep you as a pet…," he rasped out, his mouth dangerously close to my ear. In that moment, I knew what was going to happen. His hands went around me, to my back, his nails scratching my skin, making me groan in pain. I smelled a metal odor of my own blood and before I had time to think, I felt his fangs piercing the skin of my neck.

I couldn't help the cry of agony that escaped my mouth. My whole body hurt and the spot where his fangs broke my skin was on fire. A single tear rolled down my cheek. I could hear someone screaming something, probably a spell. But that was the last thing I remembered.

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_7.5.1998_

_Shell Cottage_

I didn't want to wake up. It was warm around me, I could smell lavender and roses and I heard the ocean silently singing me a peaceful, old lullaby. I didn't know what this place was, but I never wanted to leave. I felt safe, as if nothing could hurt me. Nothing bad mattered in here. Voldemort, the war, it was all suddenly pointless. Bellatrix couldn't lay her hands on me here and Grayback couldn't find me…

I opened my eyes and quickly sat up. I jerked as my whole body blazed with pain, the waves of agony brought every one of my nerves alive. It was as if every single one of my wounds opened up again, as if my skin was too small for me, as if it was tearing right on my body. It made me hiss and groan, but I didn't have enough strength in my body to scream or to jerk again. It took me a while to see and hear again, then another one to realize I was in a white room, lying in a comfortable bed. The sun shone through three big windows and I could see the blue color of a sea somewhere behind the glass. I knew this place from somewhere.

My muscles tightened painfully as two soft, gentle hands touched my shoulders and pressed me back into the bed. It was then that I realized I'm naked under the sheet that was covering me. I tried to look to my right, but I ended up hissing in pain that overflowed my neck.

"Don't move, 'Ermione."

I froze. I knew that voice. And suddenly it all made sense. I was in the room where I'd been recovering after the fiasco in Malfoy Manor. I could see the same part of the ocean as that time, I lied in the same bed and the same person took care of me.

"Fleur?"

"It is all right, 'Ermione, I am 'ere wi'z you," came a soft reply. I knew the voice and the accent, but it sounded somewhat different now. It was calm, gentle, caring, loving…. It held so many emotions that I couldn't recognize them all. But, for some reason, I liked the voice. It felt like a warm blanket made just for me to curl up under and read a book in front of a fireplace on some comfortable sofa in a big house. I found myself wanting to hear it every night while falling asleep and every morning while waking up.

"Why can't I move my head?" I asked quietly, cutting off the train of thoughts in my mind.

"'Zat repulsive beast Grayback bit you," her voice changed, now it was quiet and worried. I didn't want to hear that tone in her voice. I slowly shifted, trying to get myself into a good position to sit. "I 'ad a rough time getting you from 'ze forest. You were all scratched and bloody. I 'ad to clean you and 'eal you, but I am afraid I could do no'zing wi'z 'zat wound on your neck. It was not a full moon, so I assume you will not be able to transform, but 'zere might be some changes in your body."

"Oww, my head…" I groaned quietly, lifting my hand to touch my forehead. It was way too much information for me to absorb right now. The only thing I caught was that I won't transform. And then I realized something. "Wait… Bill is…"

"Yes," came a sad response. But it wasn't as sad as it should be. "'Zat beast killed him."

"I couldn't… I heard him, but…"

"I know. I saw you."

I slowly rose on my elbows, just to be pushed gently back into the bed.

"I told you not to move, did I not, 'Ermione?" her voice was gentle now, soft, as a lullaby to my ears. It was… weird. I've never had that feeling of warmth and safety before in my life. Not even the Gryffindor Common room made me so relaxed and calm, the feeling of safety in there couldn't compare to one that I was feeling now. I closed my eyes slowly. "Do not fall asleep, my 'Ermione. You need to eat, you 'ave been 'ere for five days like 'zat, wi'zout a meal. Let me get you some'zing."

With that, she left the room and the scent of lavender and roses weakened. I instantly missed it. I found myself staring at the ceiling, whishing she would come back quickly. I wanted her attention on me; needed her presence. I felt like a cat during winter, when it wishes for sun or for a warm fire in a fireplace. Why, that I didn't know.

When she came back, I felt my heart-beat increase and my body became warmer. I moved my head, trying to ignore the pain, just to see her face. She was smiling. Her eyes like sapphires sparkled with unreadable emotions, her skin pale like porcelain looked like the softest silk, her hair shone in the light of the sun, blonde, almost platinum. She held her body straight, like a princess, her movements were graceful and beautiful, although she was just walking and carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of something that smelled like porridge.

"'Ere you go, 'Ermione," she said sweetly as she sat down, the tray landed in her lap. She took a spoon and scooped some of the gray-white mash. I instinctively opened my mouth and she fed me with the porridge, which tasted like vanilla and lemon, with a light taste of chocolate. I never knew these flavors would taste so good when mixed together.

After I ate every last bit of the mash, Fleur left. I stayed awake until she came back.

"I'm sorry… I loved Bill…" I whispered after a short while. Though I saw it, I still couldn't quite believe that he was actually dead.

"I know. 'E was like a bro'zer to you. 'E loved you very much, too."

I bit my lip. Something in her, something on her face, in her eyes and voice, it wasn't right. For some reason she didn't look like a woman who had just lost her husband.

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**TBC**

**Don't forget to let me know what you think! **


	2. The Shell Cottage

**Hey, guys! **

**Thanks for all of your reviews! It was really sweet! But I can't help but wonder… what will you guys do when the real plot actually starts? :D**

**Please, guys, let me know what you think about this chapter. I, personally, like how it turned out, but I want to know what you think! **

**Swarm012: **I'm sorry, but I don't know if I'll be able to write longer chapters. Some of them, maybe, but… I personally hate long descriptions and everything, when I find it in a story, it really annoys me and I scroll it down to where the action starts. For me, the story moves through the direct speech.

**Chaosrin:** You'll see why I made them wait four years. Not in this chapter, since in this one it's still 1998, only a few days after Hermione got attacked, but you'll see :)

**Karean****:** ¡Hola! Pues, en verdad, no me gusta cuando el autor dejá el acento de Fleur a la imaginación. Sé que no es lo más fácil a aprender, pero si veo una historia en que el acento de Fleur no es escrito, no la leo.  
En esta historia será una Española, qué hablará en español algunas veces y qué se trata de la lengua español, soy solamente una estudiante. Por eso, quisiera pedirle a controlar y corregir las frases qué serán en español. ¡Gracias de antemano!

**Now, with that said, please, enjoy! **

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_10.5.1998_

_Shell Cottage _

After three days of lying in the bed and spending my time with Fleur, reading books or talking about everything and anything we could, I was finally allowed to stand up. My whole body hurt from all the moving I didn't do for last days and it was killing me. It was, actually, this argument that convinced Fleur to help me out of the bed. I could tell she was displeased with the idea of me not in the safety of the bed, but honestly, if I would stay on that damned mattress one more day, I would be bruised and sore from it. Lying in the bed was really worse than all the running and fighting I did for the last year on the Horcrux Hunt.

I wasn't really surprised to see that the Shell Cottage didn't change that much from the last time I was there. It was still the same comfortable place. But now it seemed somewhat unwelcoming, it lacked its warmth. Fleur seemed to notice too, since she wore a long, white, woolen sweater, clearly from France, and black leggings, however, her feet were bare. She looked beautiful, curled up on the couch, a cup of hot tea in her hands, which were partly-covered by the long sleeves of the sweater. The round neckline of the sweater nicely showed off her long, luxury neck, her skin, pale and flawless, shone in the light of the fire, which was now complacently dancing in the fireplace. She looked like a goddess, with her hair down, around her face, somewhat messy and yet looking just perfect, as if they were meant to be this way. And yet, she looked completely human, tired and sad, with dark circles under her eyes and the corners of her pink, beautifully shaped lips turned down. I didn't blame her, for the past three days she was in the room with me 'till I fell asleep and when I woke up, I could already smell breakfast from the kitchen.

It was dark outside. I didn't know how the time had passed today, with Fleur cooking while I read a book out loud for her to hear, and Harry and Ron's visit. It was really nice seeing them again. They were, both, happy and glowing with satisfaction. They were worried about me, of course, Ron had even wanted to stay here, to help Fleur take care of me, but the French witch and I had managed to convince him that his presence wasn't necessary. Actually, I didn't want Ron around here, when I had Fleur to spend my time with. I've never thought I'd say that, but the Frenchwoman was absolutely stunning, inside and out. She was sweet, caring, intelligent, talented, skilful and patient. She was, literary, the Princess of all things perfect. We spent our time talking and discussing many things. I found myself enjoying our conversations and I didn't want someone like Ron to disturb us.

I enjoyed everything about the blonde. Her scent, her calming presence, her wit and the gentleness of her occasional touch. I enjoyed every little thing about her. I didn't know how could I ever consider her arrogant and self-obsessed. Of course, she was like that, long ago. Or, at least, she acted like it. But now… it was different. I noticed that the first time I had been here, recovering. But that had been different, too. She had been acting like a mother to us, just like Molly would have done it. Now, however, she was nothing like that. She was more like a good friend. She was a young woman, not a wife, not a mother. A young woman.

"Fleur?" I asked quietly. She looked at me, her beautiful, deep, sapphire orbs bored deeply into mine. I felt like a cat, bathing in Fleur's attention just like a lazy cat bathed in the sunlight. "How long did you sleep last night?"

"Actually… I didn't sleep last nig't," she said quietly. Her voice was soft and calm, it was perfect with the sounds of sea waves and cracking of the fire in the background. But it was also tired and full of something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"Why not?"

"I couldn't. I've been 'aving troubles wi'z sleeping for a long time now. Don't let it bo'zer you," she smiled a gentle smile and turned her head to look into the fire. I, too, looked at the flames, watching their hot dance, ignoring the dull pain in my neck. The bite still hurt when I moved. It was probably the venom in the wound. Fleur said I wouldn't be able to transform, but I didn't know what other affects it could have. And I was worried. Extremely so. I could already tell that my senses got better and my movements just a little bit faster. Sometimes, I would growl from the deep of my throat when I wasn't contented with something or another, the first time I've emitted that sound, it had frightened me nearly to death. But I didn't know what I could expect from this and that kept a cold feeling of fear in my mind.

"But…" I trailed off, not knowing what to say. This was surprising; I hadn't found myself in a situation like this for the past three days. But now, Fleur was somewhat different. Her eyes were colder than I knew them, her body stiff and her face expressionless.

We were quiet for the next few minutes, both of us sipping our tea and watching the flames.

She didn't even look at me when she spoke. "You like 'im, don't you? Ronald… 'E seemed very t'rilled at 'ze 'zoug't of staying 'ere wi'z you."

"Well, we… we kissed. Once. Before the Battle of Hogwarts. But it was… I don't know, it was…"

"You didn't like it?" she asked, her tone of voice only half-surprised and, I bet I was imagining things when I heard it, somewhat hopeful.

"It wasn't something I would enjoy doing some other time in my life, ever," I admitted after I found the right words. I didn't want to offend Ronald, though he wasn't here, but his kiss was… it was sloppy and wet and clumsy and everything it shouldn't have been. It felt wrong. I knew Ronald felt something for me and for a short period of time I had thought I felt something for him, too. But after the kiss… No. It was like kissing a brother. Disgusting.

"Oh… I see," she said with a sharp nod of her head, still not looking at me. I frowned at her. What was wrong? Did I say something?

"May I ask you a question?" I spoke quietly, after another short while filled with the sounds of sea and fire.

"You already did."

"And another one?"

"You did it again," she said with a smile written in her voice. It would make me smile if it wasn't for the wave of annoyance that washed through me. Sure, Fleur was a great company, but right now, I would like to slap her across the face. She was teasing me, driving me crazy with it for some unknown reason, and she was enjoying every second of it.

"Okay, may I ask you two questions?" I asked with a little more frustration in my voice than I would like to let out.

She smirked and looked at me out of the corner of your eye.

"You may," she smirked, which sent another wave of somewhat playful annoyance through me.

"What happened to Grayback?"

She looked at me with coldness in her face, her eyes burnt with anger. Or was it only the light of the fire in the fireplace?

"'E is in 'ze Azkaban around now. And 'e will stay 'zere, I'm sure of it. You 'ave no'zing to worry about."

"It's not that I'm worried," I said quietly. It was true, I wasn't worried. As long as Fleur was with me, nothing could happen to me. I was safe when I was with her. At least for now, till I get better; get a new wand and my own place to stay.

"W'at is it, 'zen?"

"When he bit me…" I frowned; a wave of dull pain hit my neck at the memory of that dark night, weight of the Werewolf's body on mine and his sharpened teeth in my neck. "…when he bit me, right before I passed out, I heard someone shout something."

"Oui," she nodded her head, her hair hid almost half of her face when she did. I wanted to brush the hair off of her beautiful face, but before I had time to even lift my hand, she already tugged the tresses behind her ear. "It… It was me. I couldn't see Bill anyw'ere back 'zen, I went out to look for 'im. But 'zen I 'eard 'ze 'owling and I knew some'zing wasn't rig't. W'en I got 'zere, Bill was already dead and 'zat beast 'ad its fangs in your neck. I stunned 'im wi'z a spell, s'ot a red flare over 'ze spot w'ere 'e lay and I took you 'ere as fast as I could."

I nodded my head, my gaze trailed from her eyes, to her body, to the leather of the couch. I just wanted to know who had saved me back then. Somewhere deep down I knew it was her and I hoped that she had saved me because she was worried about me. But she wasn't worried about me. Nobody was, were they? They didn't notice I was gone. For some reason it hurt.

"You know…" Fleur started quietly, making me lift my head quickly, to what my neck answered with a strong wave of dull pain. I flinched, only slightly, to that. She noticed; a worried look crossed her face.

"I'm fine, go on," I smiled. It was a tiny smile, but it seemed enough for her.

"I… I found only one part of 'ze wand you were using back 'zen," she said quietly. I waited for a little while, giving her chance to continue, but she didn't. She stayed quiet, eyeing me with those big, blue eyes of hers. She reminded me of a little, curious child.

"Grayback broke it," I explained. "He didn't know it belonged to Bellatrix. And I think that even if he knew, he wouldn't care. He just wanted to rape me; he didn't need to know whose wand he broke. It's just… now I don't have a wand. And Mr. Olivander isn't in the condition to sell me a new one right now. I'll just have to wait, I guess-…"

"Non," she cut me off sharply. I didn't know that one word can sound as sharp and angry, until I heard this one.

"What?"

"You won't 'ave to wait for a new wand, 'Ermione," she said now quietly and a bit calmer. I could see the corners of her mouth tugging up slightly, but they stayed down as she suppressed the smile. There was a worried look in her eyes, together with restlessness and excitement. "I knew you'd need a wand w'en you'd wake up, so I… I asked my grand-mère for one."

"Your grandmother is a wand-maker?"

"Non, non, don't be silly," she smiled at me, but it was a tense smile. "'Owever, she knows someone w'o is a wonderful wand-maker. And 'zis someone 'ad made a wand for you."

Her legs stretched and flew down from the couch. She stood up; her lithe body quickly straightened into her queen-like pose. She went over to the fireplace, the sweater hung on her as if it was a bit too big for her. She took something from the ledge of the fireplace, then she came back, handing me that something.

The something was actually an oblong, narrow, wooden box covered in black leather. It had a royal-blue ribbon tied around it. I slowly took the box in between my trembling fingers. I couldn't let my eyes off of it, even when I heard the light tapping of Fleur's bare feet on the floor. I didn't look up when I felt the couch bend under her weight as she crawled up on it again, curling up into the ball, just like before. I didn't meet her eyes, although I felt her stare on me, somewhat warm on my skin.

"Open it," she said. I could hear the excited smile in her voice. I could see, out of the corner of my eye, that she was nodding her head in excited agreement; her eyes were widened with anticipation.

I slowly did as I was told. My trembling fingers almost lost the fight against the ribbon, but after a while, I managed to untie it. I let the silk fall down from the leather-covered box and with a deep, calming breath, I lifted the lid. In the box, there was a black, velvety lining. And in its center, there lay the most beautiful wand I've ever seen. Its handle was dark brown, with perfectly shaped cravings, which went along the whole surface of the wand. The rest of it was pure white, whiter than anything I've ever seen, it shone in the darkness of the box like snow shines in the light of the moon.

I brought my hand to it, my fingers gently touched it. It was smooth, probably polished. Then I looked at Fleur.

"You can't be serious," I breather out, my voice trembled. "I can't take it."

"Oui, you can. It was made especially for you," the French witch argued with a stubborn excitement in her face.

"But…"

"No buts, 'Ermione. It's yours," she said stubbornly. "It's twelve and 'alf inches long, springy. Birch. Try it out. "

"And the core?" I asked, taking the wand in between my trembling fingers. It fit in my hand perfectly. I felt the connection instantly. It was as if the wand and I had become one, as if it was a part of my personality already, as if it was an old friend I haven't seen for way too long. Even my old wand, the truly mine wand, didn't feel like this. This one felt… right.

"A Veela's 'air."

I looked at Fleur as if she had grown another head.

"A Veela's hair? Are you sure?"

"One 'undred per cent," she nodded, now her face held an expression of pure seriousness. "I know 'zey aren't common around 'ere, but…"

"You requested it? Did you know my previous wand had a dragon heartstring core?"

"…I didn't. And, non, I didn't request it," she admitted, looking at the wand in my hand. "Now, try it. S'il te plait."

I pointed the white tip of the wand at the fireplace. "Aguamenti!" I said quietly. Instantly, a stream of water started flowing from the tip of the wand, into the fireplace, successfully quenching the fire. A wave of energy went through my body; it tingled and caressed me, spreading a gentle warmth all over me. I had to smile. I stopped the spell, then I bit my lip and tried out a nonverbal _Incendio_. The fireplace and the room lightened up, as the blue flame slowly took over the wood. My smile widened.

"Très bien, 'Ermione!" Fleur smiled. I gripped the handle of my new wand in my hand tighter and threw myself at the French witch in a complete glee.

"Thank you, Fleur, thank you…" I repeated over and over again, crushing her in my hug, not caring about the pain in my body or her surprised yelp. Then, I felt her arm sneak up behind me. It settled down on my waist and she hugged me back. She put her chin on my shoulder, the other arm went to my hair. She stroked it gently while rocking back and forth with me.

"De rien, mon ami," she whispered in my ear, gripping me tighter in her arms. And suddenly, I didn't want to get away. I wanted her to hold me, to stroke my hair, to give me her warmth and the feeling of safety. I wanted her scent of lavender and roses always near me, I wanted her to be always near me.

* * *

**TBC**

**Don't forget to let me know what you think! **


	3. The Offer

**Hey, guys!**

**Here is the next chapter, probably the shortest in this story. Once you dig in, you'll find out why I didn't have any other ideas to put in there. I'm sorry for that, I'm really trying to write good and a bit longer chapters than I'm used to, but I'm still just learning. Hopefully, the next chapter will be done soon enough. I apologize for the mistakes you'll find in this chapter, I don't have a beta and I'm not a native English speaker. **

**Anyway, let me know what you think! And, please, note that this chapter takes place two years after The War and the events in Shell Cottage! **

**Chaosrin:** Thanks for what you've said about my description of Fleur. And why not kill Grayback, you ask? Well, there's just one reason, actually. Fleur is not a killer. Even though Grayback would deserve it, she is not someone who would kill anyone, at least in my eyes she isn't. She is many things in my eyes that she isn't in Rowling's books, especially in the Deathly Hallows, but I think even Rowling would agree that Fleur is not a killer.

**Now, please, enjoy!**

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_15.7.2000_

_Headmistress' office_

_Hogwarts_

I didn't know how did I find myself standing in the Headmistress' office, looking around at all of the paintings. Well, I did know how, actually, I just still couldn't understand what was the reason of my visit. I was invited here, which is not such a big surprise. I had got Professor McGonagall's owl just three days ago. She had asked me to come to see her because she had wanted to talk to me about something really important that couldn't wait. And I, being me, couldn't have declined, so I had sent her owl back with a letter, in which I had told her when she should expect me. Which was kind of funny, because she wasn't even here, yet.

Being here left a weird feeling in my stomach. I remembered so many things happening here. My endless talks with Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall about my studies, about Harry, about avoiding certain people when I was still just fifteen… I remembered Harry repairing his wand in here after the Great Battle. It left so many memories in me. And yet, now it wasn't the same. It wasn't the office of Albus Dumbledore anymore. It was something completely different and that was what left the weird, empty feeling in my stomach.

Hogwarts had been destroyed in the Great Battle. Witches and wizards who were willing to (me being one of them, of course) helped to rebuild the Hogwarts castle into its previous majestic glory. And yet, it wasn't as I remembered it. The walls were the same, the classrooms were the same, common-rooms and dorms were the same, dungeons were the same, heck we even managed to make Great Hall look the same! And yet, it wasn't the same. It wasn't the same at all. Hogwarts as I knew it from my times as a student was completely and irrevocably gone.

To someone who hadn't lived there, it would look normal. Everything would look just like it should have. But to me… to me it wasn't the same. The castle had changed, even though we made it from what was left from the original building. We didn't change a thing about its architecture. And yet, somewhat, the castle had changed itself.

Just like the office I was standing in. It looked just as I remembered it, with all the portraits on the walls, the big, wooden desk in the middle of the room, all the shelves with books and weird machines that served for gods-know-what… Everything was at its place. Apart from the Fawkes's roost, and the Phoenix himself. Though I helped Professor McGonagall with this office, I had a feeling that I came to a new place. Or an old and familiar place, just in alternative universe. Was that even possible? Maybe… the war had everything seem like an alternative universe to what I used to know.

I jerked and turned around when the door behind me opened. I noticed the big statute of the eagle just for a brief moment before my attention turned to the old, yet energetic woman who just stepped into the room. I instantly noticed the way she carried herself. She looked like a woman who knew perfectly of what she is capable of and wouldn't be afraid to do what she can to get what she wanted. However, there was an understanding in her green eyes, patience and kindness. She had wrinkles on her face, especially around her mouth and eyes. She was strong and determined, the authority emanated from her body like the heat would emanate from a forest-fire.

"Hermione!" she quickly looked me up and down, her lips curved into a welcoming smile. Mine did the same. "Sorry I'm late; we've been having a lot of trouble with all the preparations. Two years isn't enough to get everything ready the way it used to be, but it's all we have. I want Hogwarts to open for students as soon as possible. It's not only a house of wisdom, you know?"

"It's also a symbol of safety and good in this world, I know," I smiled, ending her sentence. "It's good to see you again, Headmistress McGonagall."

"The pleasure is all mine. And you can call me Minerva. After everything you did for me, Hogwarts and whole wizarding world, you have such rights," she said, walking around me, deeper into the room. "Please, don't stand there like that! Take a seat! It makes me feel like you are a student getting a detention!"

I chuckled together with her. Me getting a detention was highly unlikely. I did as I was told, taking a seat on one of the chairs in front of the big, oak table. I watched the energetic woman as she walked around the office, stopping every now and then just to take something from somewhere. I admired how well she's doing. I remembered, a month after I recovered and left the Shell Cottage, she looked almost desperately. She wanted to rebuild Hogwarts as soon as possible, to give all the children their safety and education. It was a difficult task, but we made it in a record time. There were lots of us helping with rebuilding the Hogwarts castle and everything around it.

"I can't believe I'm seeing you like this," I admitted after a while. "You were always so… stern and strict, always holding your composure. And now…"

She looked at me, with an understanding in her eyes. She came to the other side of the table, putting some parchments and quills on the desk, then she sat into the big, wooden chair. She looked at me with wisdom and calmness I knew so well when I was just a student.

"The war has changed people, Hermione. And not only people. I'm feeling the same way you are about Hogwarts," she said quietly. It reminded me about all the time I had spent with her, in her office, training various spells or just talking. This woman had thought me many thing, including how to stay out of trouble while helping Harry and Ron. It was weird, but I and McGonagall shared the same bond that Harry shared with Dumbledore.

"It isn't the same," I nodded my head.

McGonagall hummed in agreement. "It isn't. But there is no reason for us not to try to make it work. This school had survived and its name still lives. I think we should see this change as a chance to make Hogwarts even better place. I want to make Hogwarts what it used to be – the house of wisdom, safety and friendship. I want to make this what it used to be, for the young wizards, for new generations. I want everyone to feel safe here, at home, just like I did all those years."

"That would be fantastic," I breathed out.

"It would," she agreed. "But I cannot do this alone. I'd already asked some people for help and they agreed."

"Who did you ask for help?"

"Well… you know only a few of them," McGonagall frowned slightly. "I offered the title of Herbology Professor to Neville Longbottom. He gladly accepted, which I am thankful for. Then there is Draco Malfoy, who agreed to become a new Potions Master and the Head of Slytherin House. And then, there is Cho Chang, who accepted the post of Charms Professor and the post of the Head of Ravenclaw House."

"What about Hufflepuff?"

"Professor Sprout had agreed to keep her post of the Head of Hufflepuff House for now."

"I see…" I muttered. "What about the other posts? Defense Against the Dark Arts? Care of Magical Creatures? Ancient Runes?"

"It's all taken care of, don't worry. I've asked graduates from other wizarding schools in Europe and they agreed. Actually, the only subject without a professor is…" she took a deep breath and looked right into my eyes at that part, "…Transfiguration. And that's why you are here."

"Me? You want me on your former post?" I asked in disbelief.

"Exactly," she smiled at me. She rested her hands on the table, tips of her fingers joined together in the Dumbledore-like fashion. She really looked like a Headmistress.

"B-But… that's… I-I can't-…" I stuttered like a dumb-struck fool. My right hand went to the handle of my wand, gripping it tightly, as always when I was in a situation where I didn't know what to do. It was a new habit of mine, I only did it with the birch wand.

"Don't tell me you can't do it," McGonagall said with a serious look on her face, her green eyes bored into mine like daggers. "I know you, Hermione. I thought you everything I know, expect from the Animagus ability, but that could be easily fixed, if you wanted. You are a powerful witch and a strong woman. You have all the abilities I need to see in a Professor of Transfiguration and a Head of Gryffindor. There is no-one better for this than you. I cannot do it anymore, I'm a Headmistress. But you… you have a potential! Hermione, I know it's sudden and shocking for you, but… please."

"I'm not s-sure if I'm the best person… I-I mean-… I lack experience and I-…"

"You, my girl, are far the best person for the post! You have enough experience, wit and patience to teach a teaspoon how to create a Patronus!" she exclaimed with a serious look firmly placed on her face. She really believed it. "Hermione… If I wasn't sure you were the best person, I wouldn't turn to you. I wouldn't call for your help if I didn't know you can do this. We need you. Hogwarts needs you once again. This school cannot go on without a Transfiguration Professor, a Head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress. I know it's too much for your young shoulders and I know I'm putting a great responsibility on you with this, but… you were the only one I could think of, who is capable of doing this."

"I-I don't know…" I trailed off after it, twirling with my wand between my fingers. "I'm only twenty-one, I'm not sure…"

"That's fine. You have enough time to make up your mind. I won't pressure you into it."

I nodded my head. Being a Professor was a great responsibility, and McGonagall made a great, unbeatable reputation to her former post. I was sure I wouldn't be able to meet the expectations; I would never be half as good Professor as she was. But… maybe someday, among all the students, will be one determinate and powerful, but nobody would understand. Maybe, one day, a new Tom Riddle will come into this castle. I was sure the only thing Tom needed was love. Maybe one day a student with the same lack of love and the same power will come here and the history will repeat itself. And maybe I could stop that.

Besides, what else would I do? Harry has Ginny to keep him safe and sane, he doesn't need me anymore. Ronald is one lazy pig without the ability to feel something else than hunger, thirst and sexual desire, there was no way I would be with him. Working for the Ministry was quite a good thing, but all the bureaucracy and hatred between people there was something I wasn't about to be a part of.

Post of Professor seemed like a good choice, I would live in the castle, eat here, work here… I wouldn't have to spent money for rent and food, I wouldn't have to worry about the traps of normal life… and I still would be helping people.

"Headmistress McGonagall?" I started after a while. She looked up at me with curiosity in her green eyes. "You've got yourself a new Transfiguration Professor, a Head of Gryffindor House and a new Deputy Headmistress."

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**TBC**

**Don't forget to let me know what you think! **


	4. Charms Professor

**Hey, guys! **

**Thanks for all the reviews! I'll try to follow your advices, though I'm not promising anything, I'm not native English speaker and that can be seen in my writing. It annoys the hell out of me, really. **

**Well, here's the fourth chapter! It's pretty predictable what will happen now, that Hermione is the Professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts, but I hope you'll like it anyway. So, tell me what you think about this one! I'll try to update soon enough, if you want me to, that's it… **

**Anyways, enjoy!**

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_1.9.2002_

_Great Hall_

_Hogwarts_

I slowly walked in front of the closed door to the Great Hall. It was dark outside and a bustle of excited noise was coming from the Hall behind my back. In front of me stood a bunch of girls and boys, in a silent buzzing of whispered talks, all of them eleven years old and at least half of them scared to death. They had it written all over their cute faces, their eyes couldn't stay at one place for longer than a second, they were frowning slightly, looking with distrust at their new classmates. They all were wearing black, Hogwarts robes; I could see the outlines of their wands in the inner pockets of the fabric.

They all turned their heads to me when they noticed me, all the whispers died down. I remembered how I felt twelve years ago, when I had first looked into the strict, serious face of Minerva McGonagall. I had been very excited about learning spells and being a witch, but when I had looked into those eyes, that stone-like face, the pose of a statute, I had been scared. Very scared, in fact. Actually, I had been so scared that I had forgotten every spell I had learnt through the holydays.

I didn't want these kids to be afraid of me. I wanted them to feel welcomed, I wanted them to feel at home in this castle. I knew they had to understand there was a line between a Professor and a student that was never to be crossed, I was aware they had to respect us and listen to us. But I didn't want to act as someone who they had to be afraid of. I didn't want to be Snape the Second.

The corners of my mouth turned upwards in a warm, welcoming smile. I looked at every single one of them, just for a second. New faces always made me thrilled and I would be lying if I said that I wasn't nervous. I had a feeling that I was even more nervous than the first years. I could already picture myself, standing there in front of them in my black and dark-red robes, my curly hair falling back on my shoulders and around my face. I wasn't really embodiment of seriousness and grace.

"Hello and welcome to Hogwarts!" I said with the smile still on my face and strength in my voice, so everyone could hear me. I was doing everything I could to keep my voice from shaking. Was McGonagall this nervous back then too? I surely hoped so, that would mean I didn't look like I thought I looked. "Soon, this door will open and you will go in. In the Great Hall you all will be sorted into Houses. The Houses are: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. These Houses are equals. In every one of them were, are and will be good and not-so-good withes and wizards. For the next seven years your House will become your family. Just like in every family, there are rules you need to follow. You will gain points for your House for every one of your successes. For every rule you break those points will be taken from you. At the end of the year the House with the highest number of points will win the School Cup. It's a great honor, a sign of success and a good teamwork. You also need to know that the rivalry between the Houses isn't something that allows you to hurt or abuse others, neither is a blood status!"

They all watched with big eyes as my smile turned into a serious expression. I didn't want any muggle-born to be treated the same way I had been when I was a kid and though I was always trying to be fair, I was determinate to do anything in my power to keep all of the students at the same level. I wanted to show them there was no-one unworthy of magic among them.

I started to turn around, but I suddenly stopped and looked at them with a reassuring smile on my lips. I remembered the fear I felt twelve years ago. I had been afraid that I won't be sorted anywhere and that they will send me home. I wanted the first-years to know that will never happen to anyone, just to soothe them.

"And one more thing. Don't worry. You'll all be sorted in a House that is most suitable for you. The sorting is a work of someone who knows how to do that. And though you may not look like you belong to your House at first, trust me, you will fit in just perfectly," I smiled at every one of them one more time before disappearing from the Entrance Hall. I made my way into the room right behind the Great Hall, where the Sorting Hat was already waiting. I gently took it into my arm, with the small, four-legged stool, then I went into the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was full of people and noise they made while talking to each other. It reminded me of my old school days, how me, Harry and Ron had sat there, every year, watching the Ceremony witch curiosity. I had always sympathized with the poor kids that were out there, not really ready to be sorted anywhere. I sympathized with them even now.

When I entered the room and made my way in front of the Professor's table, I caught a sight of Headmistress McGonagall's smile, as well as Neville's toothy grin, Hegrid's huge smile and eyes like beetles, Draco's half-smirk and curious gaze never leaving me, and an almost bored expression of my best friend and the Professor of Care of Magical Creatures – Mia Reyes.

I smiled at them. I still remembered how nervous I had been the first time I had done this. I had been so nervous I had almost tripped, but, fortunately, I managed to keep my balance. From that time, I was always nervous I would trip and fall.

All the students went silent when they noticed me preparing the Sorting Ceremony. They all knew what was going on and the anticipation filled the air. It didn't help my nervousness but it only made the smile on my face widen.

When everything was ready, I took out my wand and pointed it towards the door. It opened slowly at my non-verbal command. I could see the surprised faces of the first-years as well as the excited ones of the older students. I felt my own excitement and anticipation as the kids slowly, almost timidly made their way into the hall. They stopped in front of the staircase in a group of tiny bodies pressed tightly against each other, just to protect themselves.

I smiled at them to soothe them, to help them calm down. At least half of them looked like a does caught in the spotlights. They were, obviously, muggle-born. And when the Sorting Hat started singing its usual song, all of the students looked at it with fear and interest in their eyes. The kids of wizards looked just a little bit surprised at the sight of a talking hat, but the muggle-borns were looking at it as if it was… well, a talking hat. I didn't know how it felt to watch an old, torn, worn-out hat sing when you are convinced that singing is not what a hat does. I had the book Hogwarts: A History read about four times when I got to the castle, I was prepared for the talking hat, though I hadn't known what it would want me to do.

"I'm going to read your names now," I announced in the most gentle, yet strong voice I could when the Hat ended its song. "When you'll hear your name, you will come up here and sit on this chair. I will put the Hogwarts Sorting Hat on your head. The Hat will decide which House you'll belong to!"

And so started the Sorting Ceremony. The group of first-years slowly dwindled and the Hat shouted the names of the Houses. Every time the name of a House was shouted, the table that belonged to the House cheered and screamed with joy. I couldn't help the memories that came to my mind more often than not. I remembered that tiny voice of the Hat whispering in my ear, deciding where to put me –Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. I was happy it has chosen Gryffindor. Not only I was a lioness by nature, but blue and bronze weren't really my colors.

After they all were sorted and sitting at the right tables, I scrolled the parchment and took the Sorting Hat and the four-legged stool into the room behind the Great Hall. Just as I was leaving the room, I heard the other door open, but I couldn't manage to look back, it was just a second before I closed the door behind me. I walked over to the Professor's table and sat down on one of the two empty spots, between Mia Reyes and the Headmistress.

I sat down next to Mia. I looked around the Professor's table, frowning slightly. I noticed a man sitting next to Draco Malfoy. I've never seen him before. The chair next to the Potions Master was always reserved for the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professors, who now had the same habit of disappearing after a year as they had when I had been a student. At least now we know it hadn't been Snape's doing.

"I wonder who they found for the Charms," I muttered when I eyed the empty spot next to me. "It had really been a shock when Cho announced her wedding."

"No me importaba la boda, tampoco me importa el profesor nuevo," said the woman next to me. I turned to her, quickly taking in the narrow face with high cheekbones, thin lips, big, dark-green eyes, high forehead and black hair that fell from the ponytail she had put them in, in a nice, long curls. She was dressed in a black robe; her face was turned to the students with the most bored expression she could put on. She was always like this, trying to intimidate people with her bored arrogance, clever, although sometimes offending remarks and stare that could make milk acetify. I, honestly, didn't know, how we managed to spent two years together as best friends without even attempting to kill each other.

"Mia, how many times do I have to tell you that I don't have a dictionary in my head?" I asked, trying to sound annoyed. I put my hand down on the table, straightened my back and crooked my head to the right just a little bit, just like I would do if I really was angry. "When you speak Spanish, translate it, okay?"

"Or you could just learn Spanish language," she shrugged and looked at me with that bored expression still firmly on her face. "It's not that hard, you know."

"You are in England, are you not?" I asked her, looking at her from under the eyebrows.

"Sí," she jerked her right shoulder in her typical way of saying 'whatever' or 'I-don't-care', "And what exactly is your point, señorita Granger?"

"My point is that you should speak English language when you are in England."

"People never were beings which do everything the way they should," she remarked almost impassive. "Especially Spaniels. So, tell me, why start now?"

I looked into her eyes, they were almost black and they sparkled with laughter. Although she wasn't acting like it, she was, actually, joking. That's what annoyed me about her. She was always careful around other people. She would never show her real nature to someone she didn't trust and she was always in check about her behavior. The only time she lets herself get loose is when she is alone, or with someone she trusts completely somewhere where she can't be seen. Or when she is drunk, that's also a possibility.

"Okay, can you tell me now what were you saying?" I asked with a roll of my eyes. It was playful and she knew it. I've never tried to hide my true self from the world.

She chuckled and a smirk crossed her lips. Her smirk was the only thing similar to smile she was capable of when she wasn't in the safety of her room. "I said that I didn't care about the wedding or the new professor. For someone so smart you surely are stupid, Granger."

"You're the one to talk," I said, rolling my eyes again.

"Just admit it, Granger, you maybe are the smartest witch of your age in here, but come to Spain and you're doomed. Languages move the world."

"Oh, really? I wonder why it is that most of the population of this world can speak English, then," I smirked up at her, challenging her. We were always like this, arguing and teasing each other, as if we couldn't live without it. But, at the same time, we understood each other and protected each other. Our friendship reminded me of the one I had with Harry. Well, at some points, at least.

I saw Mia open her mouth to say something back to me, when Headmistress McGonagall stood up. All the whispers and noises died down, students and professors were watching the older woman dressed in her venomously green robe. She had a smile on her face, and an expression of pride, happiness and hope. Though the War had taken place four years ago, now she seemed younger than back then. Every one of us did.

"Dear students, dear colleagues…," she started in a strong, theatrical voice, that filled the whole Hall, "…I'm truly happy to see you all here tonight. First, let me remind you that the Forbidden forest isn't just a name. The forest really is forbidden, that means no trips in there are allowed! Wandering around the castle late at night is also prohibited. Now, for the slight changes behind the professors' desk! The professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts this year will be John Youngblood!"

The man next to Draco Malfoy stood up. He was tall, board-shouldered, with brown hair, wide jaw and lips, small ears and dark eyes. He bowed slightly as the students started clapping their hands, than he sat down. He turned his face to Draco, thus towards me. I saw his small smile and wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. Though he did look good, he was about ten years older than me.

"And, as you all know, Professor Chang had to leave because of her wedding. Therefore, I would like to introduce…" while McGonagall was speaking, I heard a faint noise of door opening behind me. I didn't turn around, however, I knew it would be rude and it would only draw probably unwanted attention. I could hear a gentle tapping of shoes against the stone floor as a very familiar scent of lavender and roses hit my nose, then a chair at my right was pulled back. The seat was suddenly taken by a young woman. Her hair was pure blond-platinum, long, falling around her beautiful face in straight strands, highlighting a bit sharp, yet somehow gentle and smooth features of her face. Her pale, flawless skin looked silky-soft in the light of the candles; the shadows dancing on her face fell just in the right angle to highlight the almost aristocratic contour of her nose and the curves of her perfectly shaped, pink lips.

"Je suis désolé I'm late," she said quietly. Her voice, thick with French accent, however quiet, reminded me of a warm blanket that had been made just for me to curl up under it on a comfortable couch in front of a fireplace with a good book in my hands.

"…the new Professor of Charms and the new Head of Ravenclaw House is-…"

And right then, the woman turned her head to me. I found myself drowning in the deep, most beautiful color of sea, blue and shining like the surface of a deep ocean on a sunny day.

"Fleur?"

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**TBC**

**Don't forget to let me know what you think! **


	5. The Masks

**Hey again, guys! **

**Thanks for all the reviews and the support! I mean, 105 followers… I really didn't expect that. So, thank you all! **

**Madame Sera:** I just wanted to bring something new, some new idea to the world of Fleur and Hermione, so I'm glad you agree with me. This idea actually came from the book I'm currently writing! I'm not a writer, no, but I'm trying to be! So, tell me if you like the explanations of everything there is to explain in this story! I really am a very good friend with the question 'why' :D

**Monkgirl:** Well, I'm trying, but thanks. My native language is Slovak (I don't expect anyone to know about the language or the country) so it's sometimes difficult for me to write in English, my native language has a little different sentence construction. But I'm happy you say it, since I want to study English and this is my way of improving my skills!

**Ryoshu:** The descriptions have two meanings in this story. The first is that I want to get better in writing in English :D And the other is that after Hermione got bitten, her senses got better and she became more observant. So she is very keen on details.

**Dianadethemyscira:** En verdad, también estoy enamorada de Mia! Es un carácter muy difícil para escribir, pero también es el carácter que parece a mí más de todos. Soy solamente una estudiante de Español, así estoy segura que encontrara los errores en que Mia dice. Cuando los encontrara, por favor, diga me y yo corregiré los. ¡Gracias de antemano!

**Now, back to this chapter. It's going to be a short one, but a very important one. Why? You'll have to read it and find out! When you find some mistakes in the story, please, tell me, so I can correct them. And, tell me everything you think of this chapter! It's important for me to know! **

**Please, enjoy!**

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_27.9.2002_

_Great Hall_

_Hogwarts_

"Esn't 'ere, en England, some'zing more-… 'ow do you say eet?-… o', a lig'ter meal? I've been 'ere for almost a mont' and all I 'ad been forced to eat es stodge. You, Englis' people are all about fried eggs and bacon. Eet es not 'ealt'y!"

My back was straight as if I was pressed against a stone wall, both of my hands on the table with my palms open and fingers stretched; my head was crooked slightly to the right, lips firmly serried into a thin line. The new school year started not even a month ago, and I already had had enough of the constant and never-stopping complaining about the Hogwarts. It was either about the coldness of the castle or about how scary all of the armors were, or how rude the portraits and ghosts had been acting, or how this place is unwelcoming enough or how bad the house-elves were doing in the kitchen. I felt as if I returned in time back to my fourth year at Hogwarts.

I had kept quiet the whole time, although there wasn't a meal where our new Charms professor hadn't been complaining about something. I always reminded myself that she is not really like that, that she will come out of it and be the Fleur I knew and longed to see for four years. I knew she had spent the whole four years in France, probably at Beauxbatons or her home. I assumed that was the reason she had changed back to the arrogant, self-obsessed, spoiled little girl she had been when I was fifteen. A part of me hoped that she will be the young woman I knew, the one who had read me books while I had been lying in her bed, the one who had made breakfast for me every morning for five days, the one hadn't left my side even once when I was in the Shell Cottage, recovering from the Grayback's bite. I knew, or now rather desperately hoped, that the Fleur I had got to know for those five days was still somewhere in her.

It was strange, but Fleur was like that only when we were in the Great Hall or the corridors. In the library, she was quiet, completely concentrated on her book, drowned in whatever she was reading, her eyes were in the color of the ocen and they were sparkling with interest and curiosity. In the library, Fleur was the woman I used to know four years ago. She was the kind and sweet, good-hearted Frenchwoman who was always ready to help, whether students, professors or whoever else.

However, Mia wasn't as patient and understanding as me. She was a Spaniard to the core, and though she had always had a control over her temper, it seemed not enough to keep her in check. Whenever the blond Frenchwoman was near, she would frown and start cursing and calling her names in Spanish.

"¡Oh, Dios, si no lo deja, prometo que la mataré!" Mia said in an angry whisper, eyeing the blonde to my right with her infamous death-glare. I didn't know what she said, but according the anger in her voice I assumed it included Fleur's death.

"Calm down," I whispered back to her, trying to ignore the French witch's babbling. "She is not like that. She can be sweet, nice and caring when she wants to."

"Yeah, and I have a radio that actually works at Hogwarts hidden under my bed," she snorted, stabbing the food on her plate with the fork in her hand. I had a feeling that she was imagining Fleur's head on her plate instead of the fried eggs. It wasn't the first time that I noticed how she could master her accent. When she talked Spanish, she put emphasis on every second syllable of every word. But when she talked English, her accent was much less audible.

"Don't be like that," I frowned at her. "She really is a good person, just give her time."

"Hadn't she had enough of that already? Hermione! She's been here for almost a month!"

I frowned even more. When Mia called me by my first name, something was wrong. I had already gotten used to being called 'Granger' by her, so whenever she called me by my first name, I knew it was serious.

"And for almost a month you've been doing nothing but complaining about her!" I growled at her. It was a real growl, a low, dangerous sound from the deep of my throat that made my chest vibrate. I didn't let my eyes off of the Spaniard for a second, but I could feel something warm at the back of my head. I automatically connected it to a memory from four years ago, when I had felt the same warmth when I had been trying out the wand Fleur had given me. And it was actually Fleur's gaze that was so warm on my skin.

"Why do you protect her so much? What had she ever done for you?"

I was just about to snap something at her when the voice like blanked spoke from behind me.

"Excusez-moi, I couldn't over'ear 'ou… are you talking about me?"

Both I and Mia turned our attention towards the blond Frenchwoman. She was straightened in her seat, her head held high and her aristocratic features even more highlighted. I remembered times when she had looked like a princess, with the glory and arrogance written in her together with her self-obsession and dangerous amount of self-confidence. Now, however, she looked like a queen, still graceful and self-confident, but there wasn't a slightest trace of arrogance when she looked into my eyes. I saw sparkles of something, some distant emotions like dots of liquid silver in her ocean-blue eyes, as if she remembered me and the time she had been taking care of me. My hand automatically gripped the handle of my wand, just for the feeling of safety and assurance it always gave me.

"Por supuesto, todo tiene que tratarse de ti, ¿no? Todo el mundo tiene que estar a tus pies… piensas esto, ¿tengo razón? ¡Piensas que eres la mejor bruja en esta escuela! ¡Y todos están de acuerdo, porque no saben que tu potencia de Veela los está afectando! Pero ¿sabes qué? ¡Yo no soy tan tonta! ¡Yo sé quién eres! No sé todo de ti y tu especie pero-..."

"Mia, if you think she understands you, you're wrong, she doesn't-…" I started but the Spaniard turned her angry gaze to me, effectively silencing me.

"The hell she doesn't! She's been studying in the same school I was! She's been living with my people for more than ten years! Of course she understands me!"

"You-… you've been studying at Beauxbatons?" I asked in disbelief. She never told me that part of her childhood. I knew about her growing up with her grandfather in Andalusia, studying the Magical creatures and everything about them. I knew that she came to England at the start of the war and that she had been a member of the Order. I knew she had spent at least a year and half with Mr. Olivander, helping him making wands and learning about the wand-making. But I've never known where she had studied.

"Mademoiselle Reyes 'ad been en Beauxbatons for 'zree 'ears, if I remember correctly," Fleur said calmly, but her voice now seemed more like a blizzard than a warm blanket. It was full of coldness and bitterness. I've heard it many times, filled with many different emotions, but this was the first time I've heard a free anger and dislike in her voice.

"I thought you would forget someone as unimportant to your Veela Highness as myself," growled the raven-haired woman, her Spanish accent now seeping into her words.

"'Ow can I forget someone w'o 'ad been making my life a permanent 'ell for w'ole 'zree 'ears?" the blonde asked with that grace and queen-like posture still written all over her. Her accent was thick, thicker than I remembered it. It seeped into her words, making it difficult for her to speak as fast as Mia did, but it only added to the grace of her words. Her perfectly shaped lips, somehow, managed to warp every syllable into just right amount of that French accent and emotion for it to take my breath away at how beautifully it sounded, through angry and a bit offended.

"And you don't even know how proud I am of myself for doing that," Mia almost growled with her eyes narrow and her stare piercing, burning a hole in Fleur's head. "Well, it was really nice to talk to the two of you, but I have to go. Have a-… _pleasant_ day, señorita Delacour, Hermione."

With that, she stood up and left, the sarcastic emphasis she added to the word 'pleasant' still echoed in my ears.

"She es not much-… 'ow do you say eet?... fun to be around," Fleur remarked in a dry tone of voice, watching the leaving figure of Mia. Her voice lost its teasing and self-confident overtone, though it still was graceful.

I sighed. The scent of lavender, roses and something sweet and gentle, a combination that I could only describe as _Fleur _filled my nose and I couldn't help the quick intake of breath. The scent had engraved itself into my memory four years ago and the memory of it didn't fade away. I've never forgotten about it. It always came up in my memory together with the sound of her gentle voice and soft touch on my skin late at night, when I was feeling alone and cold.

"She is fine, as long as you don't provoke her," I said quietly, watching the door to the Great Hall close behind the Professor of Care of Magical Creatures.

"Are 'ou saying 'zat I am provoking 'er?" the French witch asked with her gaze on my face, one of her perfectly-shaped eyebrows quirked upwards in amusement and interest. She looked almost amused, with those silvery dots shining in her eyes. The warmth bloomed inside of me, emitting a pleasant feeling of content in my chest.

"Well, maybe not knowingly, but…," I started, looking at her out of the corner of my eye. Her impossibly blue eyes drew my attention like a fire draws the attention of a moth. Her perfectly-shaped lips curved into a small smirk looked almost impossibly soft and delicate. She put the fork she had been holding on the table and stood up with so much glory and elegance she could easily be a queen of some realm.

"Excusez-moi, I need to prepare for my own class. I'll be seeing 'ou later, 'Ermione," she smiled an elegant, beautiful smile and left, leaving the scent of lavender and roses hanging all around me.

As I watched her leave, I thought about how many faces she had. She could be a spoiled, arrogant princess who has eyes full of herself so she doesn't see beauty of anything around her. She could be a queen, wise and patient, with a small smile on her face and the ability to charm almost everyone, though I wasn't sure if that was a work of her Veela part or not. She could be a young woman, naturally beautiful, sweet and kind, caring, able to bring light and laughter into the room with so much as stepping inside it. She could be a friend, stubborn and slightly annoying with all the teases, but caring and loveable nonetheless. And she could be a heroine, strong, reliable and powerful, ready to help whoever needed it.

My hand traveled to the right side of my neck, where an imprint of teeth adorned my pale skin in a slightly darker shade than the rest of my body. If it weren't for her, I would be dead by now. She had been a heroine back then. If it weren't for her, I would have never recovered from the torture that Bellatrix had put upon me, nor would I recover from Bill's death and the bite. She had been a friend back then. But… what is she now? Is she still a friend? Is she that annoying princess? A queen? Which part of her personality was I dealing with now? Was it some of the ones I already knew? Or was it a completely new one, a side that I'll have yet to get to know?

For some reason I was thrilled of the thought of knowing Fleur. I didn't know why, but I wanted to know her. Now that I was thinking about it… I had wanted to know her for a long time. From when I was in the fourth year, actually. Ever since she came to the Gryffindor table, asking for bouillabaisse, I was interested in her. She had annoyed me to no end with that arrogance and self-confidence, her French elegance and grace… but deep down, somewhere inside of me, had been hiding an interest. I had often found myself wondering if that had been the real Fleur. And that didn't change. With every new face of the French witch I came to know that interest grew inside of me.

And now, that we are bound to spent this whole year in each other's company, I found myself wondering if my interest had grown into something else. I did consider Fleur my friend and though I wasn't sure if that was the right word, I couldn't think of a better name for it. But I didn't know her as much as I'd like to. There is so much more to her that I want to know.

Right then I knew I wanted to know everything there was about Fleur Delacour.

* * *

**TBC**

**Well, Fleur and Mia are enemies! Who expected something like that? Don't worry; there'll be an explanation to this, too. So, keep reading and don't forget to let me know what you think! **


	6. The Mark

**Hey guys! **

**I'm sorry you don't like Mia. Well, I made her act like a total bitch, but she has a reason for it. I only hope you'll like her once you find out more about her. But it won't be in this chapter! :D The reason of Mia's hatred towards Fleur will be explained in the next chapter, not this one (sorry for that). This chapter shows why Mia is important in this story, though it probably won't change your opinion on her.**

**Anyways, let me know what you think about this chapter! I know huge part of this story won't be according to what J.K. Rowling created (though I'm trying as hard as I can to make it fit into the HP universe) because I messed up with Lycanthropy and few other things a bit, but I still think my explanations are, too, believable. **

**yuri nanofate:** I can assure you that there will be a jealous Fleur later in the story and I can tell you that Mia was never romantically involved with anyone (you'll find the reason later in the story), so don't worry, the reason of Mia's dislike for Fleur is something completely different :)

**Now, please, enjoy! **

* * *

_28.9. 2002_

_Transfiguration Classroom _

_Hogwarts_

"…two scrolls of parchment, till the next Thursday. Class dismissed."

I watched with amusement as the fourth years of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff stood up with annoyed grunts, showed they things into their bags and slowly walked out of the classroom in small groups, talking about how horrible I was for daring to give them homework. It was the last class for today and I didn't have any special plans for the night, apart from marking the tests in the library.

After the last one of the students left the classroom, I stood up and packed all my things. I went into cabinet behind the classroom, in search for the exams that needed yet to meet my quill. It wasn't hard to find anything in there, it was all organized and clean, everything had its place on one of the shelves or the bookcases.

I frowned when I hear the door to the classroom opened. I didn't notice someone forgetting something, which was pretty weird. I did have an eye on details, and after Grayback bit me, it only got better. I could notice many things within a few seconds. That's why it was unlikely that I wouldn't notice if someone had forgotten something in my classroom.

When a scent of lavender and roses hit my nose, a small smile appeared on my face and I didn't even try to hide it.

"Professor Granger?"

I turned around and walked out of the cabinet pressing the parchment into my chest. There she stood, in the middle of the classroom, with a neutral, almost serious look on her face. To her sides stood two third years boys in black robes with red and gold ties around their necks. They were twins, both with sandy-brown hair, sky-blue eyes and grins almost always placed on their faces. I looked them up, both Trevor and Stephan Moore tried to keep guilty expressions on their faces, but a small smile broke on their lips every few seconds. I silently thanked them for having enough rational thinking to keep their heads down.

"Good afternoon, Professor Delacour, gentlemen," I said, politely nodding my head once to every one of them. I had a hard time keeping my own smile from my face. "What did they do this time?"

"'Ou say eet as if eet was everyday's event 'zat 'zey brake 'ze rulez," the Frenchwoman said with curiosity and interest in her voice.

"Actually...," I smiled and shook my head slightly. Those two really reminded me of Fred and Gorge Weasley. They were incorrigible jokers and, somehow, they always managed to find a way to do something silly or dangerous, or both. I remembered times when I had wanted to remake Fred and Gorge. But after Fred's death I admitted that they were never to be remade. They were who they were and there was no way of changing them I should have never wanted to change them in the first place. That's why I was so tolerant to the nowadays 'prank-duo'. "…if you had spent two years with them, you would got used to it. Or became immune, in the better case."

"Immune? 'Zose two 'ad tried to attack me wi'z a Cheering charm!"

I chuckled. "Attack you with a Cheering charm? And what harm would that do to you? As far as I am concerned, it only makes one smile or laugh. And, I mean no offense, Professor, but I think you would look way better with a smile on your face instead of a frown."

Fleur only frowned even more at my statement, but both boys turned their heads to me with the same hopeful expressions. "We thought so too! We just wanted to make her smile!"

"See? Neither of them meant any harm, I am sure of it," I smiled kindly. I was tempted to say that a smile could only help her, since it would wipe the expression of a person who have their wand stuck up their ass from her face, but I didn't want to be rude. And I didn't want to be a bad example to the boys.

"Eet esn't important! 'Zey 'ad tried to cast a spell on me!"

I frowned at her slightly. Now, I got to know a new side of Fleur – A Drama Queen. Seriously, what else she kept hidden from the eyes of others?

"Fine. Boys, twenty points from Gryffindor for your careless use of magic and for aiming your wand at your Professor. And…," I stopped for a little while, to take a breath and to make them wait for what was to come, "…five points to each of you two for a really good idea. Now go, and try to not to get caught the next time!"

The boys smiled their best innocent smiles brightly at me and with a loud 'thank you' rushed out of the room. We both watched them leave. When the door closed, I pressed the parchment to my breasts more firmly, as if it could protect me from the French witch. As if I wanted or needed to protect myself from her… But why? She saw me in my best and worse. Why would I want to hide myself from her now?

"I remember times w'ere 'ou would give 'zem two weekz of detention for some'zing like 'zat," she said quietly, still not looking at me.

"Well, I had realized some things after the war," I admitted, still holding firmly on the unmarked tests.

"And w'at es 'zat?"

"I learned that you can't remake a person, that you have to accept them the way they are," I said quietly. I noticed her shift slightly, as if she was uncomfortable with the topic. "I learned that there is nothing wrong with a person when they show you their real face, not just masks they've been putting on."

I didn't know exactly when my thoughts shifted from Fred and Gorge and their sometimes inapt jokes to Fleur and the way she always puts on an act to hide who she is. I didn't want to do it, I didn't want to say it, or think about it. It just… happened. The scent of lavender and roses was all around me, suddenly hiding my mind in some kind of fog that didn't allow me to lie to her. It was as if her scent was a Veritaserum. Why had I never felt it before? Why now? Was it because we were alone? Was it her Veela charm affecting me? But it isn't supposed to work on females…

"'Ou know… 'ou remind me of Professor Reyes now," Fleur said quietly. She was looking to the wall against us, as if it was somewhat interesting. Her back was straightened, her hair now pinned behind her head in a neat ponytail fell on her back gently. Her face would be expressionless, if it wasn't for the hint of a smile on her lips and the nostalgic look in her eyes. As much as I had tried when I was younger, I couldn't deny the beauty of the Frenchwoman. She looked completely natural, without a trace of makeup or mascara, and yet, her skin was flawless, pale, perfect. But there were dark bags under her eyes, as if she hadn't slept for days. Her posture was graceful, ladylike, but I could see her muscles shake ever so slightly, as they stretched to hold her still. She looked like that time in the Shell Cottage when she had given me my wand.

I suddenly had a feeling that no time had passed by. I felt as if we were still there, I recovering from the bite and she taking care of me. I could tell she hadn't been sleeping properly for a few days. She looked just like she had looked back then. She pushed herself. It hurt me to see her like that, tired and sad.

The slightly dark mark on my neck started to burn in a dull, soft pain. My hand automatically moved to cover it, a movement that didn't go unnoticed by her. She turned her head to me and I found myself lost in the blue sea of her eyes. They looked beautiful. They had the shining, turquoise blue color of the sea lightened by the sun. I could see the small, silver spots that shone with the light of the moon.

I didn't know how long I've been staring into her eyes, trying so desperately to remember what we were talking about. The fact that she was the most beautiful, stunning and gorgeous person I've ever met hit me like a ton of bricks. It didn't allow me to think, to speak, to move…

"H-How do I remind you of her?" I stuttered after I remembered our conversation.

"She…," Fleur started, her gaze boring into my eyes almost too intensively. But then, something in her eyes shifted. The silver spots in her eyes glowed, the irises seemed pure silver for just a moment, the scent of lavender and roses got stronger. And then, it was gone, just like that. Her eyes were in the same turquoise-sea color I was now used to, the scent was again just a pleasant component of the air. "I would gladly tell you, 'owever I do not suppose 'zis es 'ze best place. 'Ou know w'ere 'ze Room of Requirement is? Oui? Well, I s'all wait for 'ou 'zere, 'zis Saturday evening. If 'ou want 'our answerz, 'ou will 'ave to come and seek 'zem. O', and… promise me some'zing, 'Ermione. Please, promise me ou'll never ever join a Masquerade."

With that, she flashed me a smile, just a small one, but it was the prettiest, sexiest, most mischievous and honest smile I've seen on her face. All I could think about was the smile and when I finally got out of the trance, I could only hear the door closing behind her. My grip on the parchments tightened. I didn't know if it was a good idea to meet her there. There was something about her, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. It had been there long time ago. I remember that something emanate from her back when we were at Burrow the summer after my sixth year. It was always there. What frustrated me the most was that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find out what that 'something' was. I probably could place it on the 'Things to ask Fleur' list.

I slowly walked to my table and gathered all the things I'll need for marking the tests. I threw the leather bag on my shoulder and still pressing the parchments into my chest, I made my slow way into the library. My head was filled with the thoughts of Fleur and her masks, so I didn't notice the smile Madam Pince gave me, when I entered the large library. I nodded my head in greeting, out of habit, and made my way through the huge room into the farthest corner of the library, hidden in between dozens of heaven-reaching bookcases filled with thousands and thousands of old books. I learned over the years that those books stifled every sound coming from the other parts of the library, that's why I had chosen this particular corner. The big window provided enough light, the large table provided enough space and the chairs were more comfortable than anywhere in the library. It was my table, my corner, my world, my privacy. Nobody had ever found me in here, not even Harry and Ron. Well, Mia did, but she could find a needle in the haystack in a few minutes without her wand, so it's justifiable.

The night fell, and I still was sitting there, going through the parchments, chuckling at some things Hufflepuffs had written. I frowned at one particular test. It belonged to a Ravenclaw student and almost every answer was wrong. I rarely gave bad grades to the students, but this was worth a P and that's saying something. I never give students difficult questions, I always think about Ron and Harry when I make the tests. I always think about how they would do at the test and what they would know. That means the tests aren't all that difficult.

I didn't how a Ravenclaw student could do so horribly. The worst grade I've ever given to someone was an A, and that was a Slytherin student who didn't know almost anything about the transfiguration. That led me only to two conclusions. First: the student wasn't studying AT ALL. Or second: he had known all the right answers but decided to write the wrong ones just to test if I would give him a bad grade.

I was still looking at the parchment when I heard a soft tapping of shoes against the stone floor. A familiar scent of sun, sea salt and mixture of flowers and something spicy hit my nose. I didn't even bother to look up from the parchment.

"Damn it, Granger, I will have to buy you an alarm clock!" Mia growled from the other end of the table. I didn't even lift my gaze when something landed down on the wooden desk with a low crack. "You've missed diner. Again! ¿Qué te pasa? It's been third time this week, and it's only Thursday! Hell, if it wasn't for me, you would be starving. You owe me!"

"I've never ask you to bring me diner," I reminded calmly when I put the test on the table and brought the tray with a plate full of sandwiches and a glass of pumpkin juice to me.

"But you never fail to throw it into your mouth as if you hadn't eaten for weeks," she remarked dryly. I would say something to her, if my mouth wasn't already full of one of the sandwiches. She took the opportunity and brought the 'P' graded test closer to her. "Hmmm…"

"What?" I asked when I gulped the food.

"A Ravenclaw student got a 'P'? Delacour is going to freak out. You'll have her on your tail when she finds out."

"Why do you think so?" I frowned at my friend. She took my mind off of the food, for now at least.

"Because I know her and she is a damn perfectionist. She won't let any of her students to have a worse grade than an 'A'. Ravenclaws are supposed to be the smartest ones, just like Gryffindors are supposed to be the bravest. She won't just let it go, she'll come after you," Mia said, her face was now serious. It was a sharp change against the bored expression she normally puts on. It made me worried.

"Well, she won't have to come after me," I shrugged. "I'll come after her."

"What do you mean?"

"She had asked me to meet her this Saturday. And I'm going to go."

"¿Qué? ¿Eres loca? ¿Qué has pensado?" she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in an angry gesture. She was about to say something more when I cut her off.

"Mia! Calm down!" I hissed at her. She pierced me with one of her death-glares, but she took a seat on a chair right against me and crossed her arms on her chest. She still had that serious expression, but now it was halfway turned into an angry one. "I just need to talk to her about something. You don't have to be worried!"

"Don't I? She is a damn Veela! The world's most sexual creature! Gods know what she'll do to you when she'll have you all alone in a room with her!" Mia growled out, keeping her voice low now. It held a threatening tone, as if she was trying to tell me that if I go to meet Fleur, I'll have to deal with her.

"She is only a quarter Veela and she won't do anything. If she wanted to do something to me, she would have done it already. She had a perfect opportunity after Grayback bit me and she took care of me…"

"Párate!" Mia cut me off, lifting her hand into the air and closing her eyes. Her face turned towards the table desk; she had an expression of complete concentration. "You said that Grayback bit you? You mean Fenrir Grayback? The Werewolf?"

"Yes," I nodded my head, looking at her in confusion. I thought I've already told her. "Right after Voldemort got defeated and Harry repaired his wand, I went out of the castle. I found Grayback, literary, eating Fleur's husband. Then he leaped onto me and bit me in my neck. That's when Fleur found me and took me…"

"This story of yours is absurd! It cannot be true!"

"I wouldn't lie to you!" I frowned at her, my own voice now rising in volume, although hers staid low. I stood up and leaned in closer to her, crooking my head to the side to show her the slightly dark marks. "Here's the proof! It's a bite-mark from that night! I remember how he bent down and bit me with those fangs and pressed his bloody lips against my neck!"

"It cannot be true!" she repeated stubbornly.

"Why not? Because I'm not transforming every month? It wasn't a full moon; Fleur said I wouldn't be able to transform, even though the venom is in my body-…"

"¡No es eso!" this time, Mia's voice was deadly calm and cold as a block of ice. "La primera cosa qué tienes que aprender es… Ahh, look, Werewolves are not snakes. They do not have any kind of venom in their fangs or saliva! There is a virus and it's in their blood. That means that if they want to create another Werewolf, they have to mix at least one drop of their own blood with the blood of their pray. Y de segundo; after a Werewolf's bite there is never a mark."

"Then how do you explain my instincts? My great senses? The observation? I've never could do that before!" I almost screamed at her now. I felt anger deep inside of me, boiling and roaring, trying to fight its way out of my body, out of the cage I've been holding it in for so long. The anger at Harry and Ron, anger at Fleur and anger at myself, it all was there, trying to get free. "I'm telling you, Grayback bit me!"

Mia bit her lower lip. She looked at me with uncertain eyes, as if she was thinking about how to prove me wrong.

"I've never said you were lying. I've never said that Grayback didn't bite you," she said finally, her voice still calm, but now it held stubbornness. "I'm only telling you the truth as I know it. A Werewolf's bite never leaves a mark and you'd have to mix your blood with his to gain what you are talking about. But that's impossible, because if you got only one drop of his blood in your body, you would be infected and that means you would be transforming every full moon."

"What are you saying, then?"

"That there had to be some other being that bit you after Grayback did."

* * *

**TBC! **

**Don't forget to let me know what you think! **

**And, here is a little something from the next chapter, just for you, guys, so you can tell me if you are interested:**

"_Why-… why would you want to show me a Pensieve?" I asked after a short while. She looked at me with a small smile, her eyes now glowed with silver spots in them and the bags under them were even more visible. She looked sick. _

"_Eet es not 'ze Pensieve that I wanted to s'ow 'ou," she said quietly. She took out her wand and brought it to her left temple, her eyes never leaving mine. I watched as she slowly took the wand away from her skin, with a thin, silver-blue strap of liquid-like substance hanging from the tip of the light-gray wood. She then let the substance into the Pensieve where it started to swirl around. She repeated the process one more time before putting her wand where she took it from. "Eet es 'zis. Come." _


	7. The Masquerade

**Hey there! **

**So, this is the next chapter together with the reason of Mia's hatred towards Fleur. I'm really curious of your opinion on this. I just hope it'll be surprising for all of you. It took me long enough to think of a reason for the two of them to dislike each other and I hope it's a good enough reason. This story was getting pretty predictable, so I wanted to give it some twists and turns. So, let me know what you think! **

**JaiDrakeLy:** You are right about one thing and wrong about the others. What I can tell you is that Mia is not jealous. :D

**Madzilla1010:** Well, I'm glad that at least someone likes Mia as a character because she can be a pretty badass, when she wants to. :)

**Redherring:** Well, thank you. It's not every day that I can read something like that; it really made me happy. :)

**unexpected sabotage:** You have some interesting thoughts there. But you'll just have to wait and see what happens. ;)

**Now, enjoy!**

* * *

_30.9.2002_

_Room of Requirement_

_Hogwarts _

I stood in front of an empty wall on the seventh floor, my back turned towards the tapestry. My body was shaking slightly from the nervousness; the thoughts in my mind were crazy, flying around faster than Harry's Firebolt, making an even bigger mess in my head. I knew how the room worked, but I didn't know what to wish for. What should I want? I didn't know what kind of room Fleur wanted the Room to be, so I didn't know what I should think of. My legs moved on their own accord. I walked in front of the room in circles, trying to think about what I wanted. One particular thought was always coming back to me. _'I want to see Fleur.'_

When I looked up at the wall, it wasn't empty anymore. I smiled at the sight of dark, wooden door. I looked around to make sure nobody saw me, then I opened the door and walked in, closing it behind me. The room that I found myself in surprised me. It was small and cozy, with a fireplace in the wall opposite me were a fire was happily burning, in front of it was a large, comfortable-looking, leather couch and two big armchairs, the walls and the floor were garnished by red-brown cherry wood which looked warmer and redder in the light of the fire. Around the walls were many bookcases filled with books of different colors, every one of them with a leather cover. The air was filled with scent of fire mixed with lavender and roses.

I slowly stepped deeper into the room, my shoes were tapping gently against the wooden floor. It looked perfect, cozy, comfortable, somewhat familiar. I walked in front of the fire, its heat made me take my black-and-red robe off, leaving me just in a brown-red t-shirt and blue jeans. I put in on one of the armchairs, my hand instantly found the handle of my wand in my pocket. A weird habit, really, but it gave me much needed assurance.

"I 'onestly didn't 'zeenk 'ou will come 'ere," a soft, melodic voice with a thick French accent made me turn around. My breathing stopped for a second when my eyes fell on her. She was leaning against one of the bookcases with a thin book in her hand, her hair seemingly red in the light of the fire was messy, falling all around her face in just the perfect way to bring out her beautiful, aristocratic features and shining, sapphire eyes. She was dressed in a white, woolen sweater that was a bit too big for her and black, tight leggings. It took me a while to realize she was dressed like that the night when she gave me my wand. "I assume Professor Reyes doesn't know. She would not let go 'ou en 'ere if she did."

"Well, she does. Actually," I muttered quietly, gripping the handle of my wand tightly in my hand to stop myself from shaking. For some reason, I was nervous. Could it be because of what Mia had told me? Could it be because I was aware of Fleur being a Veela and Veelas being the most sexual, dominant and possessive creatures in this world?

"I'm surprised she let 'ou go. She can be very-… 'ow do 'ou say eet?... overprotective!" Fleur smiled a gentle smile that, just for a moment, hid the tired expression from her face. She closed the book with a lout 'thud' and placed it on the shelf, then she turned to me and smiled again. "I do not blame 'er, t'oug'. Some people, like yourself, for example, are wor'z 'ze trouble."

My gaze moved down her endless legs and to the floor, my cheeks grew just a little bit warmer and the weird warmth that reminded me of a blanket and a comfortable couch settled in my chest. I blamed the fire.

"W-Well-… you wanted to tell me about something, if I remember correctly…" I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady and firm. Now I remembered why I hated her so much when we first met. It was easier to hate her that to try and act normal around her. It was always easier to see her as an arrogant princess than a beautiful woman she was. It was easier to ignore her as a person than ignore just that weird, warm feeling she brought into me.

"I wanted to tell 'ou many 'zings, 'Ermione," she said quietly. The was she said my name, the way she let every letter of it roll out of her mouth, the way she warped every syllable of it in something soft and gentle with her tongue, it all made my knees shake and my stomach jump. But why? "I'm just not zure if 'ou 'ave 'ze rig't queztions."

"I already asked you a question."

"'Ou've asked me many queztions t'roug' 'ze time we know eac' ozzer. 'Ow can I know which one 'ou mean?" she smiled a smile that made me want to hex her. It was a teasing smile, one that said she was ready for everything I could throw on her. I frowned. That was just another one of her masks, I was sure of it. I needed to take it off of her face. And I wouldn't be a Gryffindor if I didn't go head against the wall, right?

"This Thursday, you said I reminded you of Mia and I asked you how. That's why we are here," I said. I had to bite my lip to not ask about the masquerade she had mentioned in my classroom. I will ask, later.

"Always straig't forward, I see," she muttered, nodding her head as if she had been expecting this reaction. She slowly turned and walked to one of the bookcases. "Come 'here, please."

I frowned at her, but I did as I was told. I slowly walked up to her and looked at the bookcase from behind her shoulder. I had to stand on my toes to see something; she was taller than me. There, on the bookcase, stood a stone receptacle, very similar to one I've seen in Dumbledore's office after Harry defeated Voldemort. It had runes written on it, ones I could understand, but I didn't have enough time to read them.

"Why-… why would you want to show me a Pensieve?" I asked after a short while. She looked at me with a small smile, her eyes now glowed with silver spots in them and the bags under them were even more visible. She looked sick.

"Eet es not 'ze Pensieve that I wanted to s'ow 'ou," she said quietly. She took out her wand and brought it to her left temple, her eyes never leaving mine. I watched as she slowly took the wand away from her skin, with a thin, silver-blue strap of liquid-like substance hanging from the tip of the light-gray wood. She then let the substance into the Pensieve where it started to swirl around. She repeated the process one more time before putting her wand where she took it from. "Eet es 'zis. Come."

"A-Are you sure, Fleur?" I asked; my voice was a little higher than normal. "I-I mean it's-… to show someone your memories, it's very personal and it can be dangerous. It's not that I'm not curious, but-…"

"Don't worry, 'Ermione," she cut me off, taking my hand in hers. The skin of her palm and fingers was soft like silk and way too cool. I've always thought her hands would be warm, just like the part of her personality that she had shown me back at Shell Cottage. "I want 'ou to see eet. I want 'ou to understand eet. If I didn't, I wouldn't 'ave called 'ou 'ere and create all of 'zis, would I? I trust 'ou, ma 'Ermione."

With that, she dove into her memories, taking me with her, still holding my hand in hers.

_We are standing on stairs; there is a beautiful garden in front of us. There is a huge fountain in the middle of it, surrounded by many flowers and a small labyrinth of hedge that makes the garden look like it belonged to some middle-aged castle in France. In between the hedge are paths of white pebbles, with students in blue uniforms walking down them, talking and laughing. Behind us is a beautiful, huge castle. The walls are made out of a white marble as are the stairs. The huge, wooden door has many beautiful cravings in them, but the dominant is the coat of arms with two golden wands crossed over one another each shooting three stars – the coat of arms of Beauxbatons. The building looks old, but beautiful and graceful. I assume it was built in the Renaissance style. _

_Fleur gently pulls at my arm, to get my attention, then she point towards the other side of the staircase. There, curled up in a small ball, is sitting a young, maybe eleven-years-old girl. She has long, silk-like blonde, almost platinum hair pinned by a beautiful clap behind her head. She is looking into the distance, behind the garden and the fountain, as if she doesn't see any of it, as if she is looking somewhere far behind such a trivial things. She seems ignorant to everything around her. _

"_That's you," I say quietly, afraid that the girl would hear me, but she seemingly doesn't. Fleur only nods her head, looking at the younger version of herself with a frown firmly placed on her face. She looks as if she doesn't agree with the girl sitting on the stairs. Then, the older Fleur turns her head to the door of the castle. I do so too, just to see it open. A little, maybe nine-years-old girl with black, curly hair comes out. She has a cutely shaped cheeks and her green eyes scan the garden with something I can only describe and childish enthusiasm. But her cute face soon turns into a curious pout when her eyes land on the young Fleur. _

"_Mia," says the Fleur that stands next to me, pointing at the girl that just came in. I just stare at the small girl. This happy, little being is actually my a bit arrogant, ignorant and always bored-looking friend? _

_The young Fleur turns around and looks right at the young Mia. They just stare at each other for a few seconds. Mia's pout changes into a small smile and her eyes change from just curious into curious and somewhat happy. Fleur, however, just looks at her with a neutral, almost bored expression. She reminds me of a spoiled, arrogant child. Something about her reminds me of Draco Malfoy, when he was young. _

_Young Fleur turns back to the garden, as if Mia just disappeared, to what older Fleur shakes her head in disagreement. The brunette slowly walks to the young blonde, her shoes tap against the floor. I notice her stomping slightly, so her steps would emit much more sound that necessary. I smiled, it was such a childish gesture. She sits down on the stair, next to the blonde and leans forwards, so she can look into young Fleur's face. The young Mia is looking at her companion for some time, which the young blonde stubbornly ignores. It looks almost as if they were sisters._

_And then, after what seems like eternity of waiting and guessing what goes through their heads, the young brunette asks slowly in a childish voice that doesn't at all sound like the strong and confident voice that I know: "Are you on a masquerade?" _

_I frown at the question and so does the young Fleur. The blonde quirks her right eyebrow at the girl, putting out a perfectly arrogant and cold expression that clearly says 'are you mad or what?'. _

"_May I ask why you think so?" asked the young Fleur without a trace of her French accent. I look at the blonde that stands next to me, but she only shakes her head shortly and points towards the girls. I'll have to ask her later. _

_Young Mia studies the face of the young blonde for a few seconds, her smile changes into a cute, frowned pout, as if she is deeply in thoughts. "You always have a mask on your face. It's different in every situation, but it's always a mask. Masks are worn to the Masquerade ball, aren't they? So… you must be on a masquerade if you are constantly wearing some mask." _

_Young Fleur just stared blankly at the brunette and so did I. I didn't know how she could be so observant and intelligent at such a young age. The way she put it sounded childish and innocent, as if she didn't even realize the weight of her words, but I certainly did. She is asking about the masks I've been seeing on Fleur's face the whole time I'd known her. I didn't assume she was like that when she was young. Why would she? She doesn't have a reason, does she? Is it because she is a part Veela that she hides herself? _

"_You know…," starts young Fleur after a long while of just staring at Mia. "…the whole life is a masquerade. At least for some people. Others cannot hurt you on a masquerade, because they don't know who you are. They cannot get close to you and hurt you if they don't know the real you. A masquerade is what this whole world is about, the world of magic and adults. I need to protect myself in this world. Everyone does." _

_With that, the young Fleur stands up and walks away, leaving the small brunette at the stairs to stare at the blonde's back in wonder and incomprehension. _

Fleur tugged at my arm again and before I knew it, we were falling through her memories again.

_We are in a huge room made out of flawless marble. There are huge windows in the walls, which are supported by elegant columns, that let the light of the sun come into the room. A few students clad in blue uniforms walk around us, not noticing that we are standing there. And among them is a young Fleur. She looks a little bit older than in the previous memory, but the gap can be only a year or so. She is with a group of people, laughing and smiling a false smile. They all laugh with her, though their laughter is dry and incomplete. They are staring at her and yet they don't see her at all. The boys are dumbstruck by her Veela charm and the girls are easily fooled by the mask she puts on. _

_As they pass us, I notice a young girl standing in the shadow of one of the columns. It's Mia, but she, too, looks a little bit older. But there is something different about her. She isn't the child I remember from the previous memory. She is a strong, young girl now, confident, yet with a bored expression on her face. It's the Mia I know. Although she is only about ten years old, she is the sarcastic, a bit arrogant and bored-looking Mia. I've never known she was like that even as a child. _

_Young Fleur turns her head in the direction of the girl behind the column. She stops, telling her friends to go on without her. They do, and soon, the two girls are left alone in the room. They don't talk; they just look each other up and down with the same arrogant expressions. Both of them remind me of Ice Princess, both cold and distant. The stare is emotionless, just a pure acknowledgment of the other's presence._

_Ant then, the young Fleur cracks. "You are no longer who you used to be. A year ago, you were just a child, for the lack of better words, and now… you still are a child but you miss the babyishness. You are no longer that curious little girl who asked weird questions. What's wrong with you?" _

"_What's wrong with me? I could ask you the same question," the young Mia says. Her voice is still childish, but now it holds the strength and confidence I'm used to hearing in it. "You know what is wrong with me, because the same thing is wrong with you. You know what happened to me, because the same thing had happened to you. You know what I did, because you've done the same thing." _

"_What did you do?" young Fleur asks in a soft, gentle voice filled with sadness. She already knows the answer. _

_Mia smirks one of her typical arrogant smirks and pushes herself away from the column. She walks towards the blonde, who is taller than her, but that doesn't seem to affect her. She stops a few feet away, shoving her hands into the pockets of her uniform. _

"_The same thing you had done, a long time ago," Mia said calmly with something I could only describe as satisfied hatred. "I have joined the Masquerade." _

_With that, she flashes the blonde one last smirk before walking out of the room through the big, wooden door, leaving the young Fleur to just stare at her back in wonder and disbelief. _

A few moments later I found myself in the Room of Requirement standing in front of the Pensieve with Fleur by my side, still holding my hand firmly in her cooler one. I didn't look at her when she spoke.

"I translated 'ze memories into English, so 'ou could understand 'zem. I didn't change any'zing. I wanted 'ou to know about my 'istory wi'z Mia."

After that, silence enveloped us. I looked at our joined hands. Her skin was soft against mine and I soon found my thumb gently caressing the skin of her hand. I then looked at the couch and the fireplace. Without thinking I tugged at her arm. She willingly followed me to the couch, where we both sat against each other. She looked so tired, so innocent and fragile just sitting there in that big woolen sweater, curled into a ball, looking at her knees. I noticed her body shake slightly, although she wasn't standing in that queen-like pose of hers. I wanted to just hug her and protect her. But I didn't. What if this is the real face of Fleur Delacour? What if by hugging her I will make her put on another mask?

"Tell me more about those memories," I asked quietly, looking directly at her. She didn't lift her head, didn't move, as if she didn't hear me. "Please?"

"Eet…" she started, but stopped right after that one word to clear her throat. Her voice was deep, husky and low, as if she was sick. "Eet was my t'ird and fourt' 'ear at Beauxbatons. I've never t'oug't about my be'avior like 'zat. I 'ad been trained to act like I did, to never s'ow my real face to anyone. And nobody ever noticed. Nobody, but 'er. I could feel 'er eyes staring at me t'roug' 'ze w'ole 'ear, she 'ad been studying me. She tormented me like 'zat 'ze w'ole year! 'Zat es probably w'y I said all 'zose 'zings I did w'en she asked me about 'ze Masquerade. And 'zen, w'en I saw 'er 'ze first day of 'ze next 'ear… I admit 'zat I cried 'zat nig't. She 'ad c'anged, she was no longer 'ze curious, 'appy little girl. And it was all my fault. 'Zat is 'ow she tormented me for 'ze next two 'ears of 'er stay in Beauxbatons. I 'ave never forgiven myself for turning 'er into w'at she is now. I 'ave never forgiven myself for putting 'ze mask on 'er face..."

When I saw the tears that rolled down from her eyes, I couldn't hold back. I took her into my arms, gently caressing her hair, whispering soothing words into her ear. She cried and cried, until she fell asleep in my arms. That's when I realized how tired she really looked. And how beautiful she was. She was stunning with all those masks on her face, but now that I saw her bare self, without any of her 'protections', I realized she was the most beautiful creature I've ever seen.

I silently promised her that I'll never join the Masquerade.

* * *

**TBC**

**Yeah, old school days are, sometimes, a bad memory. I know it might not be clear for you now, that you might be asking yourself 'what the heck?', but give it time. Everything will clear up, when the time is right! **

**Well, let me know if it was a surprise for you or not so much! I hope it was, because I have a few more of them up my sleeve.**

**And, here's a little bit of the next chapter, just to see if you are interested! :D **

"_And you think she made my wand and used her hair as a magical core of it?" I asked, my eyes shifting towards the wand in my hands. I still thought it was the most beautiful wand I've ever seen. Even after two years of using it, it still was as white as the moment I've seen it for the first time. I turned my gaze to Mia when something landed on her table with a low 'thud'. It was a thick, old book warped in black leather. Mia quickly browsed through it, looking at every parchment of the book, until she found the page she was looking for. I stood up and walked behind her. _

_There was a big, fancy title that read 'Veelas' and under it was a drawing of a beautiful woman and a bird-like creature with a fireball in its hand. There was just a little amount of written text under the drawing. I frowned at the book. It wasn't a big secret that information of Veelas weren't easy to find. They are very dangerous creatures which watch over their secrets closely. Not many books contain information of them and even those that do have something about Veelas written in them are, in many cases, wrong. _

"_No, I don't think so," Mia muttered, scanning the text. _

"_Why?" _


	8. The Wand and The Blood

**Hey there, guys! **

**Thanks for all the reviews! You know, it really gives me a boost when I see a new review to this story! This chapter probably will be confusing, because my English still isn't what I'd like it to be, but I hope you'll understand what I'm trying to say! If not, just PM me or anything and I'll try to explain! **

**Redherring:** I read every single one of the reviews and almost every one of them makes me smile. I love knowing that people like this story and that they like my writing. I love writing and I'm happy that people like my style! I'm really glad that my work is worth something more than a reserved place in a trash-can. And I really like the phrase 'I have joined the masquerade', too, it sounded great in my head, I just knew I'll have to put it somewhere into this story! There are many thoughts to this story and the longer it takes me to write it, the more ideas I have. I just hope I'll be able to give a few surprising twists into this story.

**Pride365:** You'll have to wait for that a little more, it's totally not my style to let everything happen smoothly! :D

**yuri nanofate:** Yeah, those two are great, trying to attack Fleur with a Cheering Charm! I'll have to think of something for the two of them, to get them a little more involved into this story. And to that 'first step' you mentioned, you'll have to wait for that one. But, I hope I'll be able to make it a surprising one!

**So, guys, let me know what you think! I always love reading your opinions on this! Now, enjoy! **

* * *

_7.10.2002_

_Mia Reyes' room_

_Hogwarts_

I gently knocked on the wooden door that led to Mia's room. I've been there a few times before, but I've never went there alone. This was the first time I've actually came here all by myself, without an invitation, out of my own free will, that's probably why my knees were shaking and my stomach was clenched with nervousness.

I've spent the whole past week with Fleur. Not only I promised her that I will never join the masquerade, I also promised myself that I'll help her get all of those masks off of her beautiful face. I didn't see Mia, not even at meals, so I felt that I needed to go to talk to her.

The door opened, but there was no-one in them. I frowned at that, stepping inside. It was a small room, with a big table now hidden by parchments, books, quills and gods-know-what else, in the middle of it. The walls were painted in blue and the wall and furniture was made of cherry wood. The bookcases were filled with books, mostly about magical creatures, everything was a mess, quills, parchments, vials of ink and books were just thrown around the floor. In the back of the room, between a wooden door that led to small bathroom and a big, wooden chest was a comfortable couch that was mainly used as a bed. And right there she was, dressed in black jeans and some black t-shirt with a book in front of her face.

"Mia?" I spoke quietly, closing the door behind me. She gave out something that sounded suspiciously just like a bored 'hmmm'. I frowned at her and stepped farther into her small room. "What are you doing?"

"Reading, as you can see," she answered, her voice held almost bored tone, mixed with a bit of arrogance and annoyance. I remembered the tiny, curious voice of a young Mia. It made me wonder what she would be like if Fleur didn't tell her about the life being a masquerade. Would she still be curious and sweet, just like she was during her first year at Beauxbatons? Will I be able to get her masks off of her face just like I had gotten the masks off of Fleur's?

"About what?" I asked quietly. To tell the truth, I was a bit afraid she might be angry at me for going to the Room of Requirement a week ago. I've never seen her mad, but I didn't want to. She was bad enough when she was just a bit annoyed, seeing her angry wasn't something I planned on doing.

"Magical creatures," she answered with that bored tone of voice. It made me want to turn around and leave her alone. I was just about to do it, when she let the book down on her knees and looked at me with tired eyes. She reminded me of Fleur with those dark bags under her eyes and skin pale from the lack of sleep and eating. "Werewolves, especially. I've been reading that kind of books all week…"

"I can see that," I frowned at her, watching as she stretched. "You haven't eaten anything for the past week, have you?"

"I did eat something…," she muttered, closing the book and letting it down on the floor. "You can sit, if you want, you know…"

"And where exactly? Every square inch is taken by something! This is a pure mess! I know you've never been all for cleaning, but this is bad, even for you."

"You don't need to lecture me! I've been working here!" she barked out, frowning at me. Some other time, it would make me shut up. I would respect her and keep my mouth shut. Some other time I would think about how she does this because she cares about me, because she wants to help me. But not now.

"Working? What kind of work is so important that you have to skip meals because of it?! If you keep this up, you'll bear the consequences! It's not healthy! Your own body will kick your ass for what you're doing to yourself!" I growled at her, crossing my arms at my chest. I had to suppress a chuckle at the thought that I was looking like McGonagall, lecturing her like that. She seemed to have the same idea, because she did exactly what she would do if it was Minerva standing here instead of me – she looked down at the floor and said nothing. "Will you tell me what was so important for you to end up like this?"

"I-…" she started, still gazing at the floor. "I was trying to find out more about the Werewolf's bites."

"And why is that?" I asked, looking her up and down. This time, she lifted her head and looked at me.

"Because-… Because every book I have read, every Werewolf I have ever spoken to had told me that there was no mark after a Werewolf's bite! After scratches – yes! But not after a bite!" she stood up at that and walked to her table, then back, her hand buried itself in her hair just like every time she didn't know what to do. "I want to know why you are the only one with the mark! If you were bitten only by a Werewolf, then there is no way you would… ¡párate! What exactly had happened that night?"

"Sit down and try to calm your nerves, alright? This is nothing you need to worry about," I said in a calm voice, sitting down on the couch. It was touching how much she cared about me. I knew she was caring and overprotective, but I didn't know it was that much.

"This is something I do need to worry about! What if something else had bit you after Grayback did? What if something else can happen to you, worse than the Lycanthropy?" she asked looking at me with wide, worried eyes. She slowly walked to the couch and sat down next to me, looking straight forward into one of the bookcases. "You need to tell me what exactly happened, fine? ¡Tengo qué saber! Hermione, I need to know what happened, otherwise I can't figure this out!"

"It was… well, it's hard to explain what exactly happened back then," I started quietly, trying to remember every little thing about the bite. "When I found Grayback in the forest, he was… tearing Bill Weasley's body, and when he spotted me, he just killed Bill and leaped onto me. He broke the wand I was using then, it belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange. He-… He wanted to rape me; he started touching my body and tearing my clothes. I noticed his upper lip was cut and bleeding. And then he… he bit me. I knew he would, he always wanted an army of Werewolves to take over the wizarding community… And then came a shout and everything went dark. I woke up in the Shell Cottage, a house where Fleur and Bill were living. Fleur was there, with me, taking care of me. She said that it was her who got Grayback off of me, that it was her I hear shouting. She helped me to recover, gave me a new wand-…"

"She gave you a wand?" Mia cut me off, turning her head to look into my eyes. "May I see it?"

Nodding, I pulled out my wand and gave it to her. I didn't want to let go of it, I was afraid it would break. I knew Mia and I knew about her wand-making skills, but it didn't make it any easier for me to lay my wand in her outstretched hand. She brought it close to her face and studied it for a while. I noticed how gently she held it, as if she was afraid of breaking it herself.

"Birch, twelve and half inches, flexible," she muttered, looking at the wand through narrowed eyes. "I don't dare to guess the core, although I do have a good idea."

I bit my lip, looking at her examining my wand. Only two people in England knew about the core of my wand: me and Fleur. I wasn't sure if I was allowed to tell Mia or not. But as I knew her, she would find out, eventually, so what was the point at hiding it? My voice was trembling a bit as I spoke: "The core is from a Veela's hair."

"A Veela's hair?" she looked at me with surprised look on her face, one of her eyebrows quirked upwards, her lips slightly parted. "You said that Fleur gave it to you?"

"Yes, but I don't see why-…" I stopped when she gave me my wand back and stood up. Then it hit me. She thought that it was Fleur's hair in my wand. "Ooh, no. Don't be silly, Fleur is only a quarter Veela! She is a half-breed, not a creature!"

"You are mistaking about that one," Mia said as she reached her desk. She started throwing things that were spreaded on the table, as if she was searching for something. "A Veela is never a half-breed. And don't cut me off, let me explain! There is no male-Veela in this world or any other. That means Veelas have to mate with humans. If there was anything like a half-breed Veela, it would mean extinction of their kind! Just think about it! If there were half-breeds in their kind, Veelas wouldn't be on this planet by now."

"Alright, I guess you're right," I muttered, watching her. I've never thought about it that way, but now that she pointed it out, half-breeds in Veela kind seemed unreal. "So, how it is then?"

"Pretty simple, actually," she shrugged and went to one of the cabinets after she had made enough free room on the table. "When a Veela gives birth to a boy, it is an ordinary wizard. Very handsome and sexy as hell, with looks that can turn every guy into a gay, but other than that, it's a normal wizard. But when it's a girl, it's automatically a Veela."

"That means Fleur is a Veela, too, right?"

"Sí."

"And you think she made my wand and used her hair as a magical core of it?" I asked, my eyes shifting towards the wand in my hands. I still thought it was the most beautiful wand I've ever seen. Even after two years of using it, it still was as white as the moment I've seen it for the first time. I turned my gaze to Mia when something landed on her table with a low 'thud'. It was a thick, old book warped in black leather. Mia quickly browsed through it, looking at every parchment of the book, until she found the page she was looking for. I stood up and walked behind her.

There was a big, fancy title that read '_Veelas' _and under it was a drawing of a beautiful woman and a bird-like creature with a fireball in its hand. There was just a little amount of written text under the drawing. I frowned at the book. It wasn't a big secret that information of Veelas weren't easy to find. They are very dangerous creatures which watch over their secrets closely. Not many books contain information of them and even those that do have something about Veelas written in them are, in many cases, wrong.

"No, I don't think so," Mia muttered, scanning the text.

"Why?"

"Because she still breathes," the brunette said, I could almost hear the regret in her voice. She pointed to one of the sentences in the book and read it. "Ancient stories say that if a Veela loses a single hair, she dies. That means it cannot be Fleur who gave her hair up for your wand."

"You mean that... that a creature had died because of my wand?" I gulped, looking at the sentence in disbelief. That couldn't be true! Nobody had died because of my wand! They just couldn't…

"I'm not saying that they had to die because of your wand. Maybe Fleur had one Veela's hair or a wand just… you know, stored somewhere in case something would happen to her wand."

"No, she said that this wand was made by some friend of her grand-mother just for me," I shook my head, looking at my wand. It suddenly wasn't as beautiful as before. "But… if a Veela dies when she loses a hair, how can Fleur have a wand with a core of her grand-mother's hair? That would mean her grand-mother is dead and that there was no 'friend' of hers who could made me a wand."

"What? She has a wand with her grand-mother's hair? That's interesting…" Mia frowned down at the book. I bit my lip, still looking at my wand, rolling it over between my fingers. It seemed so beautiful, powerful and innocent. And yet, now it was dirty in my eyes. "Maybe… maybe she had contacted the wand-maker herself. And the hair you have in your wand came of Fleur's grand-mother's head. You know, maybe they had a hair of hers somewhere, for a situation like this. And Fleur just decided to help you out. You are friends, after all."

"Are you really standing up for her?" I asked, quirking my eyebrow at her.

She growled at me and closed the book. "No, I'm only giving you options. Which one you'll choose to believe, it's your business. But whatever you do, I would ask Delacour first."

I looked at my wand again. I remembered how excited Fleur had been when she gave it to me. If she was a full Veela, she had to know about the death that came after the loss of a hair. So why would she give me a wand with a Veela's hair? Could it be really hair of her grand-mother? Was it possible that she didn't care? But… why would she give me a wand with a Veela's hair core? Why would she give me a wand at all? We weren't such a good friends. I was sure that not even Harry or Ron would give me a new wand. So why did she?

"And, Hermione?"

I turned my head to look at Mia, who was now holding a wooden box which's content sounded like jiggling glass. She wasn't looking at me, her gaze was directed down, into the box. She put it down on the table and took out something that reminded me of all the glass bowls used in chemic labs.

"What?" I asked; my voice shook slightly. I was a bit scared when she took out a needle and glass ampoules.

"I'll need your blood sample," she said, still not looking at me. Her voice reminded me of voices of my parents when they talked to their patients, it was calm and almost distant, as if whatever they were to do didn't include them at all.

"What for?" I frowned at the needle. She took my hand into hers, her skin was warm, but it wasn't as soft as Fleurs. I frowned and shook my head slightly. How could I think of her now? Why did it come to me so naturally? It felt as if the thoughts of her were in my head, just waiting for the right moment to show up and get my attention.

"You said that when Grayback bit you, he had his upper lip cut, right? That means your blood mixed with his, thus the Lycanthropy virus got into your body," she explained as if it was something I should have known from dippers.

"But I can't transform," I said, frowning at her. "You know that."

"I do," she nodded her head, pressing her thumb into the skin of my elbow; trying to palpate a vein so she could take a sample of my blood. "That's what I'm trying to understand. Only creatures bitten by a Werewolf are not able to transform. The elements of creature's blood are able to kill the virus. But I've seen a few samples of half-breeds who were bitten by a Werewolf, and their blood wasn't able to kill the virus. It was just able to somehow… control it. It was able to not let the virus transform the half-breed, although the blood couldn't kill the virus. After the bite their senses sharpened and their reflexes quickened, just like yours, but they, just like you, couldn't transform during the full moon. You know what I mean, right?"

"I have an idea," I frowned at her, trying to process her words. "Basically, you are saying that a being with some amount of blood of a creature cannot become a Werewolf, even when they have the virus in their system."

"Basically, you are right," she said, taking the needle in her hand. "Pués… may I?"

I looked at her finger, which was pointing to my arm. I nodded my head and closed my eyes; looking at blood, especially mine, wasn't my favorite thing in the world. I tried not to jerk when I felt the stinging in my arm. "And you need my blood because…?"

"Because I want to know why exactly aren't you able to transform. You are a muggle-born; that means there shouldn't be any trace of a creature's blood in yours. If that's true, than you are the first person who isn't able to transform! You could be the start of the new era of curing Lycanthropy! The elements of your blood could put an end to pain of transforming! The Wolfs Bane isn't a cure. Your blood maybe could be."

"There is a 'but' in there, isn't it?" I asked through gritted teeth. "Another alternative?"

"En verdad, sí," she said slowly, quietly. "It's an alternative that would explain the mark on your neck as well as the fact that you aren't able to transform. You know that Werewolf's bite doesn't leave a mark. But a bite of several other creatures does leave it. There are also some creatures that can spread their blood or venom by biting. We need to find a creature whose bite can spread the elements of their blood that carry the active segments, which are able to fight the virus; and whose bite leaves a mark. There aren't many of those. However, I don't know if that's possible, I need your blood to find it out."

"Alright, let's assume that what you are saying is true and if my blood mixed with blood another creature, I might not be able to transform and the blood in my body would act just like the blood of half-breeds you were talking about earlier. The creature that could have this ability can be a Vampire-…"

"No, Vampires are the same as Werewolves, their blood needs to come to the contact with the blood of their pray, and their teeth don't have any holes to let that happen," she corrected quickly. I felt the needle being pulled out of my hand and a tip of wand was pressed against the tiny wound. I heard Mia whisper a healing charm, then she put her wand on the table.

"Than… Merepeople, no? And bies, right?"

"Yes. But there is another creature which is able to do it. They use the bites to mark their mates, their blood probably contains more of the virus-fighting elements than any other and I know for sure one of them could have bitten you four years ago, just after the Grayback's bite."

"A Veela," I muttered, looking into her eyes in shock. "Fleur."

* * *

**TBC! **

**And, here's a little preview, so you can tell me if you're looking forward to the next chapter! **

"_You think that Fleur had bit me? Seriously?" I almost growled at her. She looked around quickly, checking, if somebody noticed our argument. I didn't care about it now, most of professors were used to our passionate arguing and students were too far away to hear anything. _

"_It's the only possibility I see in this. But you'll have to ask her yourself, I don't know what happened in there," she shrugged and stood up._

"_Mia?" _

_She turned to me with a quirked eyebrow and a curious expression. She reminded me of that little, curious girl she had been years ago. Maybe I can't bring that back up in her again, but it's my duty to try. _

"_Stop living the Masquerade," I said quietly. I saw her eyes widen, a look of complete shock took over her face. _


	9. Sketches and Veelas

**Hey there!**

**Thanks for all the reviews! It's a real encouragement! Here's the next chapter. I don't know what to say about it, so I guess I'll leave talking to you guys! **

**Pride365:** Nothing's simple and I'm especially looking forward to make this as difficult for Fleur and Hermione as I can. It was getting way too predictable and some parts are still that way, I want to change that.

**Redherring:** Well, I have many ideas but I'm not sure which ones I put in here. I'm sorry but you'll have to wait for the confrontation, it will take a while for the two of them to talk about it, and by 'a while' I mean a few chapters :D Well, I like it when I can give people something to think about. There will be another thing like my opinion on Veelas, that will hopefully make many people think about what is going on. And thank you for reading this and for every review!

**Ryoshu:** Well, I think Mia is everything but lovely! But she is very important to the story and I'm really looking forward to the end of the story when it comes to her, because she will be very, very important there. I hope many people will look at her from another point and see why she does everything the way she does when they find out the reasons behind everything.

**RedMerch:** It was actually my goal to make it different from other stories. I'm always trying to be different, so there's no surprise in this. Just wait a little, everything will be even more different! :D Yeah, I wanted to make Mia as sarcastic as possible, though I don't know if I succeeded. I'm just learning when it comes to Spanish, so I doubt that the sentences I write in it are grammatically correct, but hopefully everyone who reads them will understand!

**So, don't forget to let me know what you think! Now, please, enjoy! **

* * *

_21.10.2002_

_The Great Hall_

_Hogwarts_

"So, have you found something in my blood?" I asked Mia with interest. We were in the Great Hall eating our dinner with a very few students. It was Saturday, the evening after the first Quidditch match of this year, where Raveclaw had beaten Slytherin 460:140. Draco as the Head of Slytherin House was very disappointed and whole Slytherin House was angry with their team and with Ravenclaws. I knew both Draco and Fleur will make sure that none of Ravenclaw students will have an accident including something broken or jinxed. Though I never was someone who would support the rivalry between Houses, I was glad it was Ravenclaw who won. The only thing that made me kind of sad and happy at the same time was that Fleur had decided to celebrate the victory with her students in the Ravenclaw Common room, thus she wasn't present at dinner.

"Actually, yes, I did," Mia answered quietly. She then shoved her hand into the pocked of her robe. It reminded me of the way young Mia had shoved her hands into her pockets when she had been talking to young Fleur. I just stared at her as she pulled a scroll of parchment out of her pocket, with a quill and a vial of black ink. "What? Undetectable Extension Charm. I've got that idea from you, actually."

"I know what charm can make things bigger only on the inside," I frowned at her, as she put the quill and the ink on the table and unfolded the parchment scroll. "The thing I don't know is why you would want to carry all of this in your pocket!"

"En verdad, es muy fácil," she said, frowning at the parchment in her hands. "Your case is very-… interesante. Por eso-…"

"Mia," I growled deep in my throat. She looked at me as if she was surprised to hear me growl like that. I didn't blame her, I was surprised myself. I could only growl like that when the full moon was coming. Which was, by the reactions of my body, around tonight. "Talk English, please!"

"Lo siento, lo siento," she grinned at me, "But you know that I have a tendency to slip into Spanish when I'm angry, excited or tired, so… Well, I carry it around with me because I work on it whenever I have time! In between classes, during lunch, when I can't sleep at night… Anyway! Look at this!"

She showed me the parchment. There were a few drawings of something that looked like cells, but I wasn't sure. The objects were oval, some were bigger than others and some of the smaller ones had something like a twine around them. I frowned at the sketch. It was messy and somewhat complicated, though I couldn't deny that it was very realistic.

"Okay, what exactly is this?" I asked, still frowning at the sketch.

She sighed, before pointing to the drawing with her fingers. "This is a sketch of your blood. I made it myself so I know it's not the best one, but… Well, anyway! These things here," she pointed to the smaller ovals without that something warped around them, "are the erythrocytes from your blood. You know what their function is so I'm not going through it. These here," now she pointed at the small ovals with that weird twine around them, "are your infected erythrocytes. This thing around them that look like a twine is the Lycanthropy virus. It infects erythrocytes without actually affecting them, it just stays there, taking absolute minimum from their nutrients. The spreading is possible only during the full moon, at least I assume so, because I've been studying the samples I took from you for whole eleven days and there hadn't been any kind of extension of the virus. That's why I will need more samples, during the full moon. But today is not the best time, so I'll ask you for it the next month. Anyway, back to your blood. Let's say that my guess is right and the virus spreads only during the full moon. That would explain why you didn't transform first few months, but now you should be able to do it."

"And you're going to tell me what stops me from it, aren't you?" I asked, almost growling at her. I was never the one who would interrupt someone while explaining something, but I really, and I mean really wasn't in the mood. The full moon affected my body and behavior, although I couldn't transform. I was more impatient, more instinctive and more primal. And the worst of all, I was horny and couldn't keep the thoughts of Fleur out of my mind for longer than a half an hour. It was as if there was a beast in me that wakes up every full moon to affect my behavior and actions, then falls asleep again for the whole month.

"Pues, no exactamente...," she said almost awkwardly. If she wasn't holding the parchment with one hand and pointing at the infected cells with another, she would scratch the back of her head. "To be honest with you, I'm not sure what exactly is stopping you from transforming. I only assume it's the work of these little guys," she said, this time pointing at the slightly bigger ovals on the sketch.

"What are those?"

"Those… well, I can only guess, but-… I think those are leukocytes of the creature that had bit you. You know that, unlike erythrocytes, which are something like delivers of oxygen into every cell in your body, the leukocytes are responsible for immunity, which means fighting viruses and bacteria. A muggles' leukocytes aren't able to fight the Lycanthropy virus; they aren't actually able to do anything against it, that's why so many muggles die when bitten by a Werewolf. The leukocytes in wizards' blood aren't able to fight the virus. But! They are able to keep the body alive. Most of the times, at least. But the leukocytes of creatures… they are an unmapped territory to us, we don't know anything about many of them," she frowned at the sketch, bringing the hand that had been pointing to the sketches to the back of her head, where she buried it into her hair. "We do know some of them, yes. I can recognize leukocytes of Giants and Werewolves, maybe Vampires and Merepeople… but I've never seen anything like this before. It's completely… Ahhh, no sé, no lo conozco."

"But you still think it belongs to Veelas, don't you? One Veela in particular, I would say. Am I right?" I asked with quirked eyebrow. She shot me a glare, scrolling the parchment and shoving it back into her pocket. She didn't answer me right away, instead she put the quill and the ink back into her pocket and took the fork into her hand, although we both knew it was just so she would have something to do with her hands.

"There is no other reasonable explanation, Hermione," she said quietly, looking into her plate. Then she turned her head to me, she had a tired expression in her face, her eyes were somewhat glassy and she looked as if she hadn't slept for months. She reminded me of Fleur. "You said that it was her who had got Grayback off of you, and if he hadn't bit you, then go away for a little walk to stretch his legs so some other mysterious creature could implant its leukocytes into your system to prevent the transformation and then he returned and bored his fangs back into your neck, I don't see how there could be any other creature than Fleur, which could have an opportunity to give you the leukocytes. Just-… think about it for a minute! There's no other way!"

"You think that Fleur had bit me? Seriously?" I almost growled at her. She looked around quickly, checking, if somebody noticed our argument. I didn't care about it now, most of professors were used to our passionate arguing and students were too far away to hear anything.

"It's the only possibility I see in this. But you'll have to ask her yourself, I don't know what happened in there," she shrugged and stood up.

"Mia?"

She turned to me with quirked eyebrow and a curious expression. She reminded me of that little, curious girl she had been years ago. Maybe I can't bring that back up in her again, but it's my duty to try.

"Stop living the Masquerade," I said quietly. I saw her eyes widen, a look of complete shock took over her face.

"H-how-… How do you-…"

"Fleur showed me," I cut her off quickly. "She showed me her memories. I know about the Masquerade."

"Then you know it's her fault," Mia almost growled. She looked around again, to see if someone had noticed.

"And I also know that she is sorry for what she did," I said, trying to control the angry tone of my voice. "She showed me her memories and then she cried in my arms until she fell asleep, because she hadn't wanted to put you through all of this! She respected you! She admired you for your honesty and observation! She had been sorry from that day in your second year!"

Mia didn't respond. She merely looked at me, then she turned around and left the Great Hall in haste. I thought I could make her see that Fleur was sorry and that they could be friends, or that they didn't have to be enemies, at least. I guess I was wrong.

_22.10.2002_

_Library _

_Hogwarts_

"…'ze 'zing 'zat I like about 'ze muggle books es 'ow 'zey describe magic," Fleur said enthusiastically, wildly gesticulating, with a smile on her luxury pink, soft lips and sparkles in her eyes, that made the irises look deep-blue with a few bright silver spots. "'Zey see eet as a pure power of emotions and mind. 'Ze 'eroes in 'zeir books don't use 'ze wands to perform magic, 'zey do it out of 'zeir will! If 'zey want some'zing to 'appen, eet just 'appens! Eet es fascinating!"

I watched her as she went on and on about what she loved about books, both magical and muggle. We were in the library together and our meeting here was a pure coincidence. I had walked into my corner of the library, the one farthest from every other table in the room, surrounded by millions of books that muffled sounds perfectly, but as soon as I had gotten there, I had stopped dead in my tracks. She'd been already sitting there, with parchments and books all around the big table. She had been almost lying on the table, her right hand had been holding a quill which's tip had been scratching wildly against the parchment under it, the light coming through the huge window had been shining on her, bringing up the beautiful, silvery color of her hair. And when she had looked up, the light traced her figure just perfectly.

I remember her asking about my surprised expression and me explaining that no-one else apart from me and Mia had ever came to this corner of the library, that was already labeled as 'The Granger's Corner'. And so our conversation had started. We were there for who-knows how long and I haven't noticed any mask on Fleur's face. She had been nice, always smiling and talking. However, we managed to both say our opinions and listen to the other. It was the same as in the Shell Cottage four years ago.

And through that time, I had to gulp many times to get rid of the lump in my throat. I was glad to see her, I really was, but I would be even happier if my mind hadn't been wandering to my weird dreams, fantasies and the things I had done to myself list night thinking about this particular witch. But I couldn't keep the thoughts out of my head. For some reason, while hearing her voice with that thick French accent, I was imagining how it would sound in throws of passion. While I was watching her body move around slightly, sitting on her legs which were folded under her, on the chair, I was imagining how it would move in waves of pleasure with my tongue between her legs. And every time her red, moist tongue peaked out of her mouth to wet her lips, I imagined how it would feel on my body and in my mouth, what flavor it would have.

I didn't know how I managed to keep a track of our conversation, to be honest. I felt the wetness between my thighs, the knots of arousal in my stomach and the heavy steam of desire that was threading to blind my senses. It was often like that when it was full moon. During the day, I would appear normal, trying my best to keep myself from spending every free second of my day touching myself. And through the nights, I would lie in my bed with my hands between my thighs, trying to reveal the arousal and tension that had stored in my body. And every damned full moon, and every time I had touched myself even when it wasn't full moon, I would think of the platinum-haired, blue-eyed goddess that was currently sitting against me, completely clueless of my desire for her.

I hadn't yet managed to find out why exactly I was thinking about her. Well, now, that she was in the castle and we were friends again, it was understandable, there clearly was some kind on attraction between us, at least from my part. She was the Princess of All Things Beautiful; she was like Aphrodite, a goddess of beauty, love and sexual desire. No. She was even more sexy, more beautiful, more loveable, more desirable than Aphrodite or any other god or goddess. She was the most sexy, most arousing, most gorgeous, and most intelligent person I've ever met. She was everything I've ever wanted; it was only normal that I felt attraction towards her now that I was meeting her daily, during the meals in the Great Hall or wherever else in the castle. What I didn't know was why I had been thinking about her ever since the sexual desire erupted in me during the full moon for the first time. I had been thinking about her every time I've made myself cum for the past four years.

I hadn't thought about it like that when I was near her before. But the fact that only last night I've been moaning her name out in pleasure while touching myself and imagining that it were her fingers instead of mine made me quite uneasy around her today. And she seemed to actually enjoy my company right now.

"'Ermione? Are 'ou alrig't, ma lionne?" she asked, bringing me out of the sea of thoughts and lust-filled fantasies in my mind. I blinked a few times and shook my head to clear it. She was watching me with penetrating, curious gaze, making my cheeks grow pink and my body warm. It was that nice and comfortable kind of warmth that embraced me and held me, that felt like a warm blanket warped around my body. It wasn't awkward. It was, actually, pleasant, comfortable and just a little bit arousing. She crocked her head to the right side a little bit, reminding me of a small child who saw something for the first time.

"Y-Yes, I'm fine-…" I muttered, bringing my hand up to rest my forehead against my palm. "Just… got lost in thoughts."

"O'… and w'at were 'ou 'zeenking about?" she asked with the curiosity of a little child, or rather yet, of a cat in her voice and facial expression. She was studying me and, suddenly, under that perceptive gaze of those blue, blue eyes, I felt like naked. I had the feeling that she could see every little bit of me, every thought, every secret that was hidden inside of me. I couldn't bring myself to look away from those gorgeous eyes and we just looked each other in the eyes in the most intimate experience I've ever shared with someone.

I didn't know how long we were just staring at each other before I managed to speak. It could be seconds or eons. Time didn't matter suddenly. "About-…" I started, unsure what to say. I gazed down, on the parchments spreaded on the table, remembering how Mia showed me her sketches of my blood yesterday. "About Veelas"

"Vriment?" she asked in French, one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows quirked. "And w'at about 'ze Veelas?"

I took a moment to think. I couldn't just ask her if she had bit me back then to prevent the transformation. It instantly made me think of what Mia said when she took my blood sample, that the Veelas used the biting to mark their mates. Fleur had to know about that, since she was a Veela. But… was there a possibility that she had bit me because of that? No, there wasn't. If it was really her, she had bit me just to protect me from the virus and the pain of transforming. It was the most logical explanation, so why did I have the feeling of cold disappointment in my belly?

"Actually…," I started after a while, still not looking into her eyes for the fear that I would tell her everything if our gazes met. Why did she have such an effect on me? Was it because she was one of the probably most beautiful and sexual creatures in this universe? "…I was thinking-… I was wondering if Veelas' charm worked on females and what exactly is that Veelas' charm."

"I can answer one of 'our queztions," she muttered, leaning back in her chair. She casted her stare down to the mahogany wood of the table, her right hand coming up to touch her chin with her index finger and thumb. "I know for sure 'zat Veelas' charm works only on men."

"Do you know why?" I asked instantly. I wanted to get as much information of Veelas as I could and who was better to ask than a Veela? "Since you are a Veela, you should know. Or not?"

"Bon-…" she stopped after that one word, still looking stubbornly at the table. There was a slight frown on her face, which meant that she was thinking. I've seen it a few times already, and since I've always seen only her masks, I had been damn careful to remember every one of her expressions as well as I could since she took off her masks. "I know w'y, but I don't know 'ow to explain. Eet es-… difficult to explain en English."

"Many things in life are difficult and we need to understand them. Just try it," I said, the corners of my mouth turned upwards slightly, to create a small smile. "Please?"

"I wonder if 'ou want to know eet just out of s'eer curiosity or if 'zere es some'zing more about eet," she said suddenly, piercing me with those blue eyes. Well, they weren't blue anymore. They were more silver now; I could only see a few spots of blue in them. The fact that her eyes changed their color made me excited and a bit scared at the same time.

"I guess I'm just curious," I said quietly, shrugging, after a while of looking into those silver-blue eyes.

"Oui, always 'ze curious one, aren't 'ou, 'Ermione?" she asked. I was probably just imagining things, but I was almost sure she said my name in a low, French purr. It sent shivers running down my spine. "Bon! Veelas' charm affects only men because 'ze charm or 'ze t'rall, as many like to call eet, es no'zing o'zzer 'zan-… 'ow is 'zat word? … o', rig't, p'eromones! En 'ze realm of animals, p'eromones are used to-… 'ow do 'ou say it?... Hmm, o', oui, allure! P'eromones are used to allure 'ze individuals of opposite sex. And 'zat w'y Veelas' 'charm' works only on men, ma lionne."

I nodded my head, gazing into the desk, biting my lower lip. I was considering if I should ask another question that had haunted my mind for almost two weeks now. And it wasn't about the bite. It was something different.

"W'at do 'ou want to ask me, 'Ermione?" she asked suddenly, stealing my attention. I looked at her, surprised, to what she only chuckled, her eyes sparkled with blue, then turned back to silver. "'Ou 'ave it written all over 'our face, ma lionne. Just ask the queztion, 'ou don't need to 'ave my permission to do 'zat. W'enever 'ou want to ask me some'zing, just do eet. I won't bite."

No, you won't bite me. You already did, didn't you, so why would you go through the trouble of doing it again?

"Well… I was wondering…" I frowned slightly, looking at her cheek, then forehead, then other cheek and then neck. I couldn't find a safe spot on her face to look at, but I didn't want to be impolite and look somewhere who-knows where. Finally, after a while, I looked her in the eyes. "…I've heard that the core of your wand is a hair of your Veela grandmother, so I thought that you were a quarter Veela…"

"Oui, 'zere is my grand-mère's 'air in my wand," she nodded her head. She didn't have a mask on her face, I could tell so much, but her movements still were graceful, as if she was a queen. "But I could 'ear it in 'our voice 'zat 'ou don't 'zeenk 'zat I am a quarter Veela anymore. Am I mistaking?"

"No, you aren't," I admitted, still looking into her eyes. They were beautiful. The blue color in them looked like a midnight sky now and with those shiny silver dots all around them they looked as if they were made out of the night sky.

"And w'at do 'ou 'zeenk now?" she asked, crocking her head to the right lightly, the curiosity found its way into her eyes again.

"That you are a full Veela."

She was quiet for a while, just looking deep into my eyes, as if in search for something. Then she straightened in her seat, her gaze still not leaving my eyes. "T'oug' I don't 'zeenk eet came out of 'our 'ead, 'ou are rig't. 'Zere es no such a 'zing as a 'alf-breed, w'en it comes to Veelas and I am no exception."

* * *

TBC!

It has become a habit of mine, so, here's a little preview!

_I was surprised to find out that Draco was a better company than most of the people I knew. Sure, he could be an arrogant git, but most of the times he was nice, and polite. He was smart, one of few people that I was able to hold a meaningful conversation that didn't include Quidditch or jealousy over his best friend (and I'm totally not pointing to Ron with this!) for longer than five minutes. He was respectful and a gentleman, good-mannered, always calling me by my name, last of first, it depended on the company and our surroundings. That's probably why I always found him saying my first name somewhat intimate and special. _

"_You shouldn't be frowning, Hermione," he said suddenly, taking my attention away from the book. "I'm not saying you don't look pretty when you do frown, but you are more beautiful when you have a smile on your face." _

_I felt warmth in my cheeks. It wasn't the warmth that makes the body tingle and comfortable like I felt when I was with Fleur. It was warmth that I was sure sent blush to my cheeks and I couldn't decide whether I liked it or not._


	10. Invitation and Homework

**Hey there, guys! **

**Thanks for the reviews and your support! Well, this is the chapter ten and it's one of our twists and turns, because not even I know how this all will end up. I do have it thought out with Mia, but I still don't know what to do with Draco. If you have any ideas, you can write them into a review! **

**Pride365:** I realize that four years is a long time, but there is almost nothing simple when it comes to my stories, so I guess I just have it in me to make things as complicated as they can be. And about Mia, I already have something planned out for her, and I can tell you she won't end up with Draco.

**Redherring:** You don't have a reason to be jealous, I don't do anything special :) I just do what I like the best. Well, I don't return to one chapter like three hundred times just to change it somehow. I just write something down and I don't change it much afterwards. Of course, when I find some grammar mistake, I have to correct it, but that's all. I don't know if there is any real 'right' when it comes to writing, because someone can say that the thing I like or do is a piece of shit. And I can tell you, there's going to be something a little bit different than that the inner battle you've mentioned. :D

**And now, enjoy!**

* * *

_9.11.2002_

_Library_

_Hogwarts_

We were sitting in the Library, in the farthest corner of the huge room, enclosed by dozens of heaven-reaching bookcases filled with millions of sound-muffling books. It was quiet, the sun was setting and everything was dressed in orange and gold, even the parchment of the book I was reading seemed more yellow that normal. Against me, in front of the huge window, sat none other than Draco Malfoy, with his pointy chin hidden by a parchment, his blonde, almost platinum hair seemed gold in the light of the sun and the pale skin of his aristocratic face looked as if it was shining. He had asked me earlier today to help him with something and I, being me, agreed. But, though we were sitting there for about a half an hour, I still didn't know what I was supposed to help him with. The only thing he did before he sat down to his parchments was that he gave me two thick books full of advanced Transfiguration and said: "Animagi." And so, I started to search for information of Animagi. Apparently, the lecture Professor McGonagall had given us when we were third-years wasn't enough for him.

For the past two years, Draco and I had become something that one could call friends. He had apologized, multiple times, for making the hell out of my school years and I, in return, didn't apologize for the punch he got from me in the third year. He had agreed with me that he deserved it for being a complete jerk and idiot, and so our friendship had started. I had found out that he was, actually, fun to be around, intelligent and really, really sweet, when he wanted to. I've never liked it when someone paid for me, but I could handle getting a butterbeer for free every now and then when we went to Hogsmeade.

I was surprised to find out that Draco was a better company than most of the people I knew. Sure, he could be an arrogant git, but most of the times he was nice, and polite. He was smart, one of few people that I was able to hold a meaningful conversation that didn't include Quidditch or jealousy over his best friend (and I'm totally not pointing to Ron with this!) for longer than five minutes. He was respectful and a gentleman, good-mannered, always calling me by my name, last of first, it depended on the company and our surroundings. That's probably why I always found him saying my first name somewhat intimate and special.

"You shouldn't be frowning, Hermione," he said suddenly, taking my attention away from the book. "I'm not saying you don't look pretty when you do frown, but you are more beautiful when you have a smile on your face."

I felt warmth in my cheeks. It wasn't the warmth that makes the body tingle and comfortable like I felt when I was with Fleur. It was warmth that I was sure sent blush to my cheeks and I couldn't decide whether I liked it or not.

"W-Well-… th-thanks, I guess," I muttered, trying to hide my blushing face behind the book.

"Put that book down," he said with gentleness and calmness in his voice. That made me even more nervous, and though I put the book on my lap, I didn't let go of it, so my hands would have something to hold onto. "You are cute when you bite your bottom lip."

I looked at him, his mercury eyes shining in the now almost pink light of the setting sun. I didn't realize I was biting my lip until he pointed it out and that made me release the captive of my teeth.

"W-what has gotten into you? You've never been this forward before…" I muttered, gripping the book in my hands. I noticed a few signals he gave out, small compliments about my looks and intellect; the effort to make me laugh as many times as possible when we both were in the mood; the lack of distance between us and, of course, the looks he gave me every time he saw me. I was dumb when it came to love and things similar to it, but I wasn't that stupid. However, I was stupid enough to not know how to react to those signals, so the only thing I did was ignoring them as good as I could.

"I'm just tired of you not noticing anything I do," he said lazily, with that aristocratic, arrogant look on his face. He looked like a lazy cat. "I've been trying to hint on you for the past two years, but you were blind, or you pretended to be blind, I'm not sure which one. So, I decided to take on a bit more Gryffindor-like approach and dive in head first. And now, for something I wanted to ask you for gods know how long: the next trip to the Hogsmeade, you and I, Three Broomsticks. What do you say?"

"You mean, as a date?" I asked quietly, hesitantly, almost shyly. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. Never in a million years would it occur to me that the Slytherin Prince Draco Malfoy will one day ask me out. And when I was trying to understand the situation, I noticed the weak scent of lavender and roses. I took in another deep breath, this time to just make sure I wasn't imagining things. No, I wasn't. The scent was there, getting stronger with every second. A small smirk formed on my face.

"Yes, it would be a real, official date," he smiled. Even though he hadn't smirked on me for the past two years, I still wasn't used to seeing him smile. When it came to him, smiling was a rare and intimate gesture. I was, suddenly, glad that I was one of those few who had ever seen him smile.

"Well, this is… sudden, to say at least," I muttered, gripping the book on my lap tighter between my fingers. I could feel the warmth on my cheek, but it wasn't a blush this time. It was the same warmth I felt when Fleur was looking at me, the kind of warmth that did feel just… warm, not uncomfortably or awkwardly hot. Was she listening to our conversation? Why would she? Would it make her jealous if I said yes? There wasn't a reason for her to be jealous and there also was no reason for me to think about that. Fleur and I were just friends, although my mind doesn't seem to accept that fact during the full moon and lonely nights. But, if I got together with Draco, those nights wouldn't have to be lonely and maybe I could take my mind of the beautiful Veela. And maybe, just maybe, it would make her jealous.

"I know, but… eh, so, what do you say? If you make me wait any longer I'll explode from the tension and nervousness," he said quietly. I studied his face just for a moment. He didn't seem nervous or tensed. But then I noticed the way he had his jaw only slightly clenched and the tensed muscles around his eyes and on his shoulders were also good enough sign for me to know that he wasn't lying.

"Well, I-…" I smiled at him, concentrating on the warm feeling in my cheeks, to make sure Fleur was listening. She was. "I would be happy to go on a date with you."

A sincere smile broke on his face, the tension slowly fading away from his muscles, his jaw wasn't so clenched anymore. "Really? That's… that's great! To be honest, I didn't really expect you to say yes… you know, after all I did to you, which I am very sorry for! And, you know, Gryffindor and Slytherin-…"

"Stop with those prejudges," I cut him off with a warm smile on my face. "Severus Snape was in love with a Gryffindor muggle-born witch and I'm one hundred per cent sure he wasn't the only one. There is nothing wrong with loving someone, as long as that love isn't possessive and restrictive. I think there is nothing wrong with a Gryffindor and a Slytherin to be together."

His answer was a warm smile. It was somewhat nice on his face. "You know, I'm not the only one who looks nice with a smile on their face," I smiled at him, then brought the book back on the table. "You were asking about Animagi, weren't you? Well, I, personally don't have any experience with Animagic so I'm not the best person to look up to when it comes to this-…"

"Hermione," he said quietly, cutting me off. The sound of my name from his lips was somewhat nice and intimate. But it lacked the bit low, gentle, silk-like, alluring voice and the thick, sexy, French accent. "You are the youngest Transfiguration professor who had ever walked these corridors and you are great at what you do. Even McGonagall didn't learn the Animagic in her seventeen's. When you decide it's the good time to start with it, you do it. And, by the way, it was only an excuse to be with you."

I chuckled when he winked on me. He ordered the parchments around him while I returned the books to their shelves. Then we sat down again, this time a little bit closer to each other, talking about everything and anything we could. It was pleasurable and I enjoyed his company, wit and funny remarks. But, in all that, I was still missing something. No, he was missing something. He was funny, nice and intelligent. But he lacked the gracefulness and gentleness; there wasn't that sensual undertone in his voice. And I missed that, for some reason.

"P-Professor Granger?"

We both turned to the small entry leading in here, which was actually a small space between bookcases. There, in between those massive bookshelves filled with tons of parchment, stood a small girl with long, black hair and big, deep, green eyes. She was really tiny, the black robe she was wearing hung loosely from her body, the green-and-silver tie was loosened around her neck and she clenched to one scroll of parchment with both of her hands as if her life depended on it. She looked so sweet and fragile; I wanted nothing more that to hug her, to keep her safe.

I felt both gazes on me, Draco's and Fleur's. I leaned forwards so I was at the eye-level with the little girl and I smiled at her. I knew her from the Transfiguration lessons. She always sat in the front row, at the right side of the room, where shadow would always hide her body. She rarely said anything, but she was better than the average. I wouldn't say she was talented yet, nor she was a bookworm like myself when in her years, but she was trying.

"Yes, Miss Landern?" I asked in gentle voice, as to not scare her. I remembered the stern, strict stare of Professor McGonagall when students came to her when they deeded something. I remember how scared they were of her. I didn't want my students to be scared, especially not this little one, she was scared enough of everything else already. "How can I help you?"

"I-… I w-wanted to ask-…" she trailed off, looking into the ground. She gripped the parchment tighter in her hands, as if she was trying to scrounge some courage out of it. "I wanted to ask you if y-you could h-help me…"

The smile on my face even widened. She was too cute. "Of course. What do you need my help with?"

The girl didn't respond, she just gripped the parchment even tighter. So that was the thing she needed my help with.

"May I see it?" I asked, pointing at the parchment. She hesitated, but then she slowly stretched both of her hands and handed me the parchment. I unfolded it and read the only sentence there was: _The difference between Transfiguration and Charms. _"Is this your homework?"

The girl nodded her head once in agreement to my question. Now that she wasn't holding the parchment, her hands clenched on one another. She looked almost afraid of me. I noticed how she looked at Draco and the expression of fearful respect even deepened in her face. I turned to him to see his infamous half-smirk firmly on place. Otherwise, his face looked almost cold. I frowned at that.

"Professor Malfoy, I don't want to be rude or anything, but could you, please, leave us? I would like to speak to Miss Landern alone," I asked in the most polite tone of voice.

There was amusement on his face when he stood up. "But of course, Professor Granger. See you around."

And with that he left, completely ignoring the quiet 'good-bye' the girl said to him. I pulled out a chair next to me and pointed at it. "Just sit here, alright? I'll help you, but you need to write it yourself. I'm sure Professor Delacour wouldn't be very happy if she knew about this."

I smiled at that, I was sure Fleur knew about it. I still felt her gaze on me, the caressing of the blanket-like warmth on my body was the sign that she knew everything about me helping this little girl with her Charms homework.

The girl slowly walked to the chair I pulled out for her and sat down on it. It was high for her, her legs were in the air, swinging under the chair, back and forth and the table was too high for her. She looked cute, like a little child. I wouldn't mind taking care of her all the time.

"Well, let me explain, first, okay?" I asked with a smile firmly placed on my face. The girl looked at me with a childish curiosity in her face, reminding me of the little Mia. "The main difference is that while with Charms you can create, shift and remake objects, with Transfiguration you can change them, and not only their appearance, but their nature as well. Both Charms and Transfiguration are very important for you as a young witch. But there are differences between them. If you want to be a good duelist, you need to know many hexes and jinxes. For that is good to be good in charms. But, when it comes to Transfiguration, it's a bit more complicated. Whilst Charms are mainly concentrated on pure power, Transfiguration is about intellect and ingenuity."

"But they complete each other, don't they?" she asked quietly in somewhat childish voice. I was wondering if she should still talk like that at the age of eleven. But that was probably her personality; she was still just a child. I had to grow up sooner than most of my peers; I didn't know what it meant to be childish.

We stayed there for another half an hour, talking about Transfiguration and Charms and how they were different and similar at the same time. I helped her write down the essay and she thanked me with a big hug, but once she had realized what she was doing she stumbled backwards with a shy apology. Then, with the speed of a lightning, she grabbed her parchment and disappeared. I just watched her leave, thinking about how right she was when she had said that Transfiguration and Charms did complete each other, feeling the warmth of the Veela's gaze on my skin.

* * *

**TBC!**

**And, here's the preview of the next chapter! **

"'_Ermione," she said my name in that husky, low, French purr that sent shivers up and back down my spine, straightly towards my core. I felt my muscles tighten and I had to grip the desk of the table to actually keep myself from jumping the object of my darkest, naughtiest desires. I felt her gaze on me, warmly caressing the skin of my face, neck, chest, and then…_

_And then, she stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes stopped at Mia, who was practically lying on the chair by now with her hands behind her head. The Spaniard opened her eyes slowly. When their gazes met, the room was suddenly thick with tension. I could swear that if I wanted to, I could cut the air with a knife right then. _

"_I-…" Fleur started, licking her lips nervously, making me fix my gaze on her full, pink, perfect lips. "I t'oug't… bon, I'll be going now." _

_And just as she turned around and took the first step towards the exit, I heard the chair shift slightly and there was a quiet sigh. _

"_¡Espérate!" Mia called out. I turned to her; she was still lying on the chair with her hands behind her head, her face was marked by nervousness, her lips pressed together in a thin line. It was taking all of her self-control to not to attack someone who she thought ruined her life with the stupid Masquerade. "You don't have to go." _


	11. Hogsmeade and The Armistice

**Hey there! **

**Thanks for the reviews and support, I can't not love you for it, guys! Well, the great date between Hermione and Draco is here! But I don't know what to say, so I guess I'll leave the talking to you and your reviews! **

**Azwildcats: **Well, I could send him away, but that's no drama. I know I have enough o fit planned out for this story, but still. But, thanks for the idea :)

**Pride365: **You have nothing to be sorry for :) I don't mind the impatience and I'm glad you're still reading this story :)

**Ryoshu: **I'm sorry if the accent is difficult to read, but I personaly like it more that way. You know, Fleur had spent four years in France, it's only normal she has thick accent now. And, no, I'm not going to make her find a spell to make it better.

**Redherring: **Don't worry, I know how it feels when work/schol is crazy :) I like Draco and Hermione together, too, but I like Fleurmione better! And it's not just because of the hot, lesbian sex! :D Well, thank you :) It wasn't easy for me to learn to write like this. When I was only starting with writing, which was about six years ago, so I had a lot of time to practice, I couldn't put together a longer sentence! So there's seriously nothing to be jealous of :) Well, there's a lot of people, I know not everyone can like my work. But, I'm glad to know that some people like what I do! Thank you :)

**And, by the way, I still don't know what to do with Draco, so if anyone has an idea, feel free to put it into a review or PM me! **

**Now, enjoy!**

* * *

_12.11.2002_

_Three Broomsticks_

_Hogsmeade _

"You know, I would never think that you, the Gryffindor Golden Princess, will help a Slytherin student," Draco muttered, leaning back into his chair and taking a sip from his butterbeer. It was Saturday, the day of the trip to the Hogsmeade, and we were sitting in the farthest corner of the Three Broomstick. Draco was a gentleman, but he reminded me of a lazy tomcat. He was just sitting here, leaning backwards, watching me with those mercury eyes of his. Sure, he made me smile and everything, but he still lacked something, although I couldn't quite put my finger on what that was.

"And I would think that you would drop the prejudges after The War," I muttered quietly, gripping my own butterbeer in one hand and the handle of my wand with the other. Although Draco never made me feel uneasy, he made me nervous right now. This was my first actual date and I wasn't sure how I was supposed to act, what I was supposed to say. It was a completely new experience and it wasn't something I was enjoying, to be honest. "Why wouldn't I help her? She is a student and a human being, just like everyone else in the Hogwarts. It doesn't matter to me if she is from Gryffindor or Slytherin. It is my duty as a Professor and a Deputy Headmistress to help every student who'll ever need it."

"You remind me of Dumbledore, you know? He, too, always wanted to help everyone," Draco almost sighed with a sad smile on his face. However, the smile disappeared, as he took another sip of his beer. I could only guess he was struggling with painful memories of the end of our sixth year. "Look where it had gotten him."

"Nobody can live for the eternity, Draco. We can't, Dumbledore couldn't, not even Voldemort," I said quietly, gently. Although I said it with as much gentleness as could, he still flinched at the name. "We should use our time here to help others, to create a better future to younger ones. To prevent the rise of another Dark Lord. That's why we are here. That's why I agreed to the offer McGonagall had given me two years ago."

"A real Gryffindor, aren't you? Always there to help others, always putting others' needs before your own…" he smiled at me again. He put his glass on the table and soon, I felt his hand on mine. "I wonder… when will you start enjoying your own life, Hermione? When will you start living for yourself, not for others?"

"I am living for myself," I argued quietly. I decided to keep my hand in place, covered by his, a lot lager one. His touch was warm on my skin. I've always thought that his skin was ice-cold, since it was pale, almost snow-white. But the pleasant warmth that emanated from his somewhat rough hand into my skin was making me smile.

"No, you aren't," he shook his head, gently squeezing my hand in his. "You are living for others. You always have been. First Potter and Weasel, and don't frown at me like that, he deserves even worse nickname and you know it! Then you were helping us rebuild Hogwarts, now you live to help all those students and everyone who will ever need your help. I just-… I'm worried about you. You are pushing yourself way too hard. You are smart and brave, but that won't keep you going. One day, you'll drop on the floor from exhaustion, just because you always help someone."

I was quiet for a while, replaying his words in my head. I had to admit, he was right about one thing – I've always tried to help others. But it was different when I was younger. I had been bossy back then, stubborn and willful, trying to remake everyone to the ideal I held in my head. That had changed. Now, I felt I was really helping people by supporting them in what they wanted to do, by helping them grow to what they want to be instead of making them behave and live according to one prescribed shape. I was helping the students be who they want to be and I was proud of myself for that.

"Had it ever occur to you that I can be enjoying a life like this?" I asked him, now pulling my hand from under his, just to place it on top of his hand. I smiled at how small my palm was against his big one. My lightly tanned skin contrasted slightly with the paleness of his a bit rough hand. "Had it ever crossed your mind that I was helping people because I enjoy it? You know… when I help someone, like that Slytherin girl in the library, it makes me happy. It sends a warm feeling through my body. I like knowing I was useful to someone. Because… happiness, it's not just comfort and money and cool drink on a sunny beach. Happiness, at least for me, is knowing that people can rely on me. I am happy when I help someone, because that way I know they won't forget me. I know they keep me somewhere in their hearts for helping them. That's happiness for me. Knowing that people are safe and sound and that, just maybe, they think of me from time to time. It makes me happy."

"You are weird, Hermione," he smirked. But when his eyes met mine, the smirk on his face turned into a small smile. "I've always admired you for that. I've never known how you could be so nice to people… how you could help me even though I was a total jerk to you. I still don't get how you could forgive me for everything I did to you. I'm grateful for that! It's just… you always take care of everyone, always help them, always take their problems on your shoulders. You always care for others… but you never let anyone to take care of you. You don't let anyone to take your problems on their shoulders, never let anyone to help you. And it annoys the hell out of me! Because I know that one day, it will be too much for you to handle. And then-…"

"You worry too much, Draco," I shook my head slightly, cutting him off. I didn't even struggle to keep the smile off of my face. His words were nice and the concern in his voice as he spoke, the passion and care in his eyes made me feel warmth inside. It was a different kind of warmth from the ones that I was used to. I knew the blushing kind of warmth which Draco could bring up in me so easily. I knew the indefinite kind of warmth that I felt whenever Fleur was around. But this warmth… it kind of reminded me of my old school days, of the summers I had spend in Burrow with Ginny, talking and laughing like crazy teenagers.

"Well, it's normal to worry about the ones we love, isn't it? You are an expert in this kind of things, aren't you?" he asked. I felt the warmth in me change into the blazing, cheeks-coloring heat. I was sure I was blushing and the fact that I noticed the slight pink color in Daco's cheeks wasn't helping my situation. "What I mean is-… Well-… I-… I don't want you to get hurt because of how much you push yourself in helping others. I want to be the one to take care of you, Hermione."

I felt my cheeks get even hotter at his statement. We were both quiet for a few moments, both trying to process the fact that he had actually just admitted he loved me. I knew what love is and I knew that everyone once falls in love, but I didn't expect this from him. The fact that I actually didn't know how I felt or how should I feel made the mess in my head even worse. And, to the top of it, I somewhat always thought of a certain French witch and I couldn't help comparing Draco and my feelings to him to her and the feelings that had grown in me from the times when I was fifteen.

After a few moments, the conversation started again, on a lighter note this time. Draco was a gentleman and a really receptive listener, always searching for eye-contact and always giving off shows of affection. Small smiles were almost permanently on both of our faces and, at some moments, we had to fight back our laughter as not to disturb others in the pub. The time passed quickly and soon, we were heading back to the castle, with all of the students that went to Hogsmeade in front of us.

"…if they were in Slytherin, I would probably expel them for that," Draco said with a half smile/half smirk right after I told him about what the Moore twins tried to do to Fleur.

"Oh, c'mon, they aren't that bad! I know them; they wouldn't do such a thing. I know Trevor is pretty daring and Stephan can be a little crazy sometimes, but they would never hurt a soul. They are sweethearts once you get used to them," I chuckled quietly, gripping the handle of my wand in my left hand. For some reason, I needed the support the wand always gave me.

"How can you get used to someone, who wants to cast a spell on a teacher?" he asked with a mock horror in his voice. His eyes were sparkling with laughter; the mercury color in them seemed almost dark with the sun setting behind us.

"It was just a Cheering Charm, nothing life-threatening," I smiled at the memory of the Drama Queen mask Fleur had put on that day. "I am used to them, thanks to practically growing up with Fred and Gorge Wesley. I think that world needs more laughter and fun, that's why I'm not making a big deal out of their pranks.

"You know, Hermione…," he said, his voice suddenly serious, but gentle, filled with something I couldn't quite name. He stepped closer to me and took my free hand in his as we walked towards the castle as if it was the most normal thing to do. "…you will make a great mother one day."

I felt my cheeks grow warm with blush once more. He gently squeezed my hand in his and held it a little bit tighter on the way to the castle. We talked a bit more, about everything and anything, with his hand still holding mine firmly, but gently, until we got on the first floor, where we stopped in front of the door to my personal little study.

"I've never noticed a bed in your study," Draco half-smirked at me when he saw the door. "Or do you sleep on your desk?"

"No, I don't sleep on my desk," I chuckled, gripping the handle of my wand tighter in my hand. I was almost leaning against the wall with my back, my front turned fully to him. For some reason, I felt nervous and somewhat vulnerable. I didn't like the feeling. "It's-… well, it's complicated. I'll show you, once, okay?"

He chuckled quietly, stepping a bit closer to me, making me lean into the wall even more. "You know, I had a lot of fun today, and I would like to repeat it, sometime. Maybe the next trip to Hodsmeade could do? What do you say?"

"Uhm-…" I muttered trying to think of the best answer, but with his face slowly getting nearer and nearer, and without a way out of it, it was hard to say something. "...well, th-that sounds-… good! I'll-…"

"The only thing I mind right now is that you talk too much," he whispered, looking into my eyes, his hot, moist breath tickling my lips. Then his gaze fell to my lips and before I could do something, his mouth was pressing against mine in a gentle kiss.

My head was pressed against the stone wall; there was no way of escaping. Although, I wasn't sure if I wanted to escape, since I, hesitantly, opened my mouth slightly when I felt his tongue cares my lips. It quickly slipped inside and led me in the slow, gentle dance. My eyes closed, because I knew they were supposed to do that. It wasn't like my first kiss, not at all. Where Ron was sloppy and clumsy, Draco was gentle and slow. But, even though it was way better than my first kiss, I couldn't decide if I liked it or not.

Draco pulled back slowly, with his eyes still closed. Mine opened as soon as our lips stopped touching. He slowly opened his eyes, the mercury color in them darkened into rainy-gray. He had a smile on his lips. I had to convince myself to smile, too, when I saw that.

"Well," he started with a low, gentle voice. "Goodnight, Hermione."

He gave me a little peck on the lips and left, turning around to wave at me in the middle of the corridor. I waved back, still not quite able to process that he had kissed me. And the familiar gentle warmth in my chest that felt like a blanked didn't really help the situation.

_18.11.2002_

_Library_

_Hogwarts_

I hissed at the stinging pain that let me know the needle was already in my forearm, gently sucking out my blood like a Vampire. It was a sunny, but chilly afternoon. Through the huge window, I could see the gray clouds above the beautiful, green and gold Scottish hills that surrounded the castle and the grounds. The grass was in the dark shade of green that just awaited snow, the Forest was dark, even the Whomping Willow let its leafs fall onto the ground. I was wondering when the first snow will fall. I loved the first snow in Hogwarts, and every snow after it. In my memories, winter was a time of calm and peace, when Weasleys would drag me and Harry out of the castle for a snow fight. Now, winter was a time of calm and peace when Moore twins would charm the snowballs so they would attack one particular person, but not hurt, at least not very badly. It was a charm that I came up with during my Hogwarts day and I thought they would like it. They did.

I was looking forward to winter and Christmas. It was a time of the year when almost whole school would go home for holydays, and the rest stayed in their Common rooms most of the times. I liked to go up to the Gryffindor tower to those who had decided to stay and do something with them. We would read books with younger students, I would practice some charms and spells with them, help them with what I could. I felt as if it was my responsibility to help them, since they were, at least for the seven years of school, my children. And, I didn't felt lonely with them. Mia never liked the English winter, so she never left the warmth of her room, saying that she won't be spending her days out when the temperature was 'equal to the absolute zero point' according to her.

But, maybe this year will be different. Fleur was used to the English winter; maybe I would be able to spend some time with her. And I was sure Draco would want to spend some time with me, too. I wasn't against it, actually, I was happy that he wanted to be with me. But I was more thrilled about spending my time with Fleur. I wanted to see her walk with that seductive swing of her hips. I wanted to see how her lips moved when she spoke, how her soft, red tongue gently caressed every syllable of every word that left her mouth. I found myself wondering how her lips and tongue would move on my body, how would her low, husky, sexy accent sound whispering dirty, dirty things in my ear as she would trail her soft, gentle, long, slim fingers down along my stomach to the lower abdomen, in between my legs-…

"¿De qué estas pensado? Or should I ask 'de quién'?" asked Mia in a slightly teasing tone of voice, bringing me from the sea of thoughts in my head back into reality. I blinked a few times, before I turned my head to her.

"I just-…" I stopped, not sure what to say. I know she asked me what I was thinking about, I knew that much from Spanish by now, but I didn't know what to tell her. I felt my cheeks grow warm in embarrassment. Damn the full moon! It was driving me crazy, and it didn't even come out, onto the sky! The night of the full moon will be tomorrow, but I felt like it was today, with all that sexual tension pent up in my body. What was the worst, the touch of my hands wasn't enough anymore. I could bring myself to an orgasm at night, but it would only leave me wanting more, needing more. "Just thought about the winter and Christmas."

"En serio? I thought you were thinking about a certain blonde-…"

"Who are you talking about?" I asked, cutting her off. The stinging pain in my forearm made me realize that I actually jerked a bit when I asked that.

She frowned at me, then she took the needle out of my hand and took out her wand. As the tip of the thin ebony touched my skin, a light-blue light surrounded the small wound that was a bit bigger than it was supposed to be, thanks to my surprised jerk. "About Malfoy, who else? I saw you two at Three Broomsticks the other day, talking and holding hands. I must admit, I would never expect him to ask you out. He was so in love with you, I knew that the first time I saw you two together, but I've always thought he lacked the courage. Honestly, he surprised me."

"Yeah, he surprised me, too," I muttered, looking at my, now healed, hand. My gaze than shifted to three ampoules of the red liquid that was taken from my vein. It looked normal, completely normal. For some reason, I was expecting to see it white with leukocytes of some magical creature. But seeing it like that, deep-red, it made me feel… weird.

"So, when is your next date?" she asked with a smirk as she slowly put the ampoules into her leather back. She then sat down on a chair, while I sat next to her, on the table. She looked at me with that curious, although a bit confident look in her face. She had given up the Masquerade, or at least she tried. It was harder for her than for Fleur, I could tell that. Where Fleur was acting like the woman I knew four years ago when she had been taking care of me, Mia was still a bit uneasy when she didn't have her mask on to protect her.

"He said something about the next trip to Hogsmeade, which is the weekend before the holydays," I said quietly, looking down at the ground. I didn't kwon if I was more uncomfortable with the wetness in between my thighs form the thoughts of Fleur, or if I was more displeased with the lack of presence of the blond witch.

"And you are going to actually wait the whole month? Qué te pasa? I thought that you liked him. You looked like you did enjoy his company," she remarked with a smirk on her face. She leaned backwards into her chair, closing her eyes. I could see her relaxed muscles, but she still had that shadow of sorrow on her face and dark bags under her eyes.

I opened my mouth to answer when the scent of lavender and roses hit my nose and the blanket-like warmth spreaded inside of me, warping me in it, making my mind go almost blank. It made my heart race; its beats were so hard I was sure it will leap out of my chest. And the annoying wetness in between my thighs became even wetter; the already bothered, sexually frustrated beast in me came fully alive.

And then, she appeared from behind the bookshelves. She wore skin-tight jeans and a flannel, checked, blue-silver-gray button up shirt that brought up the beautiful color of her eyes and reminded me of those romantic movies shot in somewhere at ranch in Texas. She just needed a cowboy hat on her head and a faithful dog to her knees. And a pair of cowboy boots to match.

She looked at me, the sea-blue color shone with those silver dots that I was now used to. The corners of her lips turned upwards into a warm smile. She took a few more steps towards the table, her hips swinging seductively ever so slightly, the jeans helped to put up a show of her seemingly never-ending legs…

"'Ermione," she said my name in that husky, low, French purr that sent shivers up and back down my spine, straightly towards my core. I felt my muscles tighten and I had to grip the desk of the table to actually keep myself from jumping the object of my darkest, naughtiest desires. I felt her gaze on me, warmly caressing the skin of my face, neck, chest, and then…

And then, she stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes stopped at Mia, who was practically lying on the chair by now with her hands behind her head. The Spaniard opened her eyes slowly. When their gazes met, the room was suddenly thick with tension. I could swear that if I wanted to, I could cut the air with a knife right then.

"I-…" Fleur started, licking her lips nervously, making me fix my gaze on her full, pink, perfect lips. "I t'oug't… bon, I'll be going now."

And just as she turned around and took the first step towards the exit, I heard the chair shift slightly and there was a quiet sigh.

"¡Espérate!" Mia called out. I turned to her; she was still lying on the chair with her hands behind her head, her face was marked by nervousness, her lips pressed together in a thin line. It was taking all of her self-control to not to attack someone who she thought ruined her life with the stupid Masquerade. "You don't have to go."

Fleur looked at the young woman from above her shoulder with a surprised and hopeful expression in her face. But that expression changed into a relieved, small, happy smile when a sound of a chair being pulled out took over the corner.

"Grave?" the French-woman asked quietly. Although her face was happy, her voice was still full of disbelief.

"¡Deja de preguntar por tonterías y siéntate!" Mia smirked that half-smirk of hers and lied back in the chair, putting her hand under her head. "Before I change my mind."

Fleur smiled and took the seat between me and Mia, which the Spanish which picked up for her. She looked at me with those blue-silver eyes full of happiness and something that I couldn't quite put my finger on. The warmth erupted in me and I had a feeling that I was warped up in a soft, warm blanket. I couldn't keep the smile off of my face.

* * *

**TBC!**

**And, a little preview, so you can tell me if you're looking forward to the next chapter!**

"_Haahh, alright, mum," I muttered, grinning. _

"_I'm not your mum. If I were, you would have tanned skin, black hair and you would be able to speak Spanish," Mia smirked, getting up from her chair. She gathered all of her things into her leather bag and cracked a smile at me. "Just promise me you'll relax, alright?" _

"_Will do," I smiled back at her. "Thanks for always taking so much care." _

"_Don't get used to it. One day, I'll be gone and you'll have to find someone else who's going to take care of you. Better do it soon. You deserve it after everything you did for this world and people in it," she said quietly, the honesty and sadness in her eyes surprised me. "I'm off, then. Take care, Granger."_

_With that, she left. After her black robe disappeared in between the bookshelves, I turned around and looked the books that surrounded me in search for something I could read 'till it's time for a bath. I hated early baths, and since it was only about five in the afternoon, I had plenty of time kill. Finally, I found something. It was a muggle romantic novel, one of those I didn't enjoy much during the month. But with just a few hours until the full moon…_

_I started reading the book. At first, it seemed innocent enough, but I was a fast reader and getting to the 'core' of the book wasn't difficult for me. What was difficult however, was keeping my hands out of my pants when I got to the good part. I knew I should be imagining Draco and myself when the main characters in the book got to the 'bedroom stuff', but for some reason, I couldn't. Instead, I imagined myself with other blonde, the blonde that was about six inches taller than me, the blonde with a beautiful smile of those perfectly-shaped, pink lips, the blonde with the most gorgeous sea-blue color full of silver dots in her eyes. It came naturally to me to imagine myself and Fleur doing dirty things. I couldn't help it. Not that I wanted to. _


	12. Birthday and Relaxation

**Hello there! **

**I know this is a bit short but, well… I didn't know what else to put in here, so, um… yeah…**

**Redherring: **Well, that's the whole point! I'm not going to say more about Draco, you'll have to wait for it, but there's more to his behavior. I don't really like hectic thoughts, they are very confusing, but there will be more of Fleur and more of some un-Hermione-like stuff in the next chapter and chapters after it. I'm trying to make this story a believable tale of one's feelings and thoughts when they are thorn between a few things and they have to keep their cool, because of their position. That's why I'm trying to put more and more things that could come in Hermione's way. Though, I myself don't know yet how some of those things will work out :D

**Pride365: **That's a brilliant idea! Though Harry and Ron weren't mentioned in the story after Hermione had become a Professor… I think that can be repaired, thought. But I still can't decide, to be honest. Your idea is great and if nothing better comes up (which I think won't) I'll use it. Though I don't know how to set it in there…

**Well, let me know what you think and enjoy! **

* * *

_19.11.2002_

_Library_

_Hogwarts_

"¿Qué te he dicho sobre los regalos de cumpleaños?" Mia asked me, trying hard to hold back and not yell at me. She had an expression of anger in her face that I could tell was just a sham and the look in her eyes that told me she wasn't really all that upset. "¡Te he dicho qué no los quise! ¿Por qué no puedes aprender eso?"

I grinned at her. Though I didn't understand all of what she said, I could understand the idea of it all – she didn't want me to give her a birthday present. She had never wanted it, but she had always got it. I didn't know why she wouldn't want a birthday present, it's not like everyone is giving them to her. I've never seen her get anything from anyone, apart from me. She hadn't even, ever, got an owl with a letter from her parents as far as I know.

"I don't know what you have just said, but I don't get why you freak out about this! It's not like I give you something big! It's just a notebook! I don't see a reason for you to freak out about this!" I frowned at her, pointing to an average-sized, thin book warped in black leather cover. I had bought it for her the last week, when I was in Hogsmeade with Draco. I knew she wouldn't just let go of her experiments and researches and I didn't like the idea of her running around the castle with shreds of parchment tucked somewhere in her robes. I could already imagine what it would be like if she lost one or more of them and someone else would find it. She would be angrier and far more dangerous than Fluffy, and the poor guy who would find her notes would be more confused than a muggle in the Diagon Alley.

"You don't need to see a reason! I just hate getting presents on my birthday, that's all! Why can't you respect that?" she almost growled at me. She gripped the quill in her right hand tighter, I could tell she was trying to control her temper. Although she rarely got really angry (she was pretending that she was angry most of the times), when she did, it was bad. She was a powerful witch with a very instable wand. Although the core of my wand made it instable enough, hers was far worse than mine could ever be. And her blowing a fuse is far worse than mine, especially when wands are involved. Probably because of the huge difference not only between our wands, but our personalities as well.

"Because you were unable to respect my wish!" I growled at her, "When I told you that I didn't want anything for my birthday or Christmas, you just pretended to be daft! I just did the same with you!"

Mia, unexpectedly, sighed and let the quill fall on the desk. She brought both of her hands to her face, so she could bury it in her palms. She sighed again, as if she wasn't sure what to tell me. I knew her long enough to know what signs to search in her body language. Her body wasn't stiff, she still held her head high and there wasn't any tension in her shoulders. She wasn't angry. She was tired.

"Mia," I said her name quietly. She didn't lift her head, didn't move, didn't do anything to show me she heard me. I slowly took a few steps towards her and gently lay my hands on her shoulders. She wasn't all for physical contact, but she didn't brush me off this time, so I leaned closed and hugged her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she muttered, her voice muffled because of her palms were pressed against her mouth. She sighed again, then she let her hands fall down on the table. She was quiet for a bit, just looking into the distance, her eyes unclear, unfocused, even the green color of her irises seemed darker and distant. She was thinking about something really hard.

"Mia?"

"Nothing's wrong, Granger, don't worry," she said quietly. "I'm just tired. Sorry about the overreaction, by the way."

"You are a Spaniard, it's understandable," I said, smirking. She responded with her own smirk and shrugging her shoulders to get me off of her. I let her go and straightened, stretching myself a bit. "So, are you going to keep it?"

"You're asking as if that thing was alive," she remarked dryly, taking the black book in her hands. She opened it and caressed the blank, parchment page gently, then closed it with a quiet 'thud'. "I assume you got me this because you didn't like the amount of parchments I've been carrying around?"

"Yeah," I nodded, smiling. I went back to my original place, just a few feet away from her, and hopped onto the table. "You know me too well."

"Observation isn't just yours quality, señorita Granger," she smirked that half-smirk that reminded me of Fleur, and yet if was completely different from the arrogant, self-confident, challenging half-smirk the French witch was famous for.

"Guess you're right," I nodded, still smiling. "Well? Are you keeping it?"

"Yeah," she muttered, her gaze now fixed on the black leathered cover of the book. "I'll keep it. It might also help with the investigation."

"Investigation?" I repeated, frowning at her. There were many things she could be investigating, from why did every Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts stayed only one year to where is Fluffy now, to why did Peeves become a really good friend with Nearly Headless Nick. But I knew Mia and she was many things, but not an investigator and definitely not when it came to things regarding the school. There was only one kind of investigation she could be working on.

"The weird behavior of the virus and the leukocytes in your blood, what else? I've been studying them since I've gotten them from you yesterday, and they were acting more than strange if my knowledge is anything to go by. They were…" she trailed off, bringing one hand to her face, taking her chin between her thumb and forefinger. She was frowning down on the book, as if it just ate a hamster of hers. Well, she didn't have a hamster…

"What?" I asked, now frowning at her.

"It looked as if the virus was trying to multiply itself. But Fleur's leukocytes in your blood-…"

"How can you be so sure they are hers?!" I cut her off, frowning even more. Although she had had a point when she had said that there was no-one else who could have possibly done it and I, somewhere deep down in my heart, knew that she was right, I still refused to believe her. Though, a part of me refused to believe that some other creature than Fleur could bore its fangs into my skin to save me from the virus and to mark me. But I still hadn't had time to ask Fleur herself if she had bit me or not. I already knew she was a full Veela, but that didn't necessarily mean that she had to bite me. Well, considering the situation, it did.

"For someone so smart you sure are dumb, Granger, especially during the full moon," Mia growled at me, opening the black book I got her and taking a quill in between her fingers. Her hand moved quickly on the parchment, leading the quill, drawing ovals similar to the ones she had showed me almost a month ago. This ones were, however, a bit less refined, since it was only a quickly drawn sketching. "But that's not important now."

"And what is important, then?"

"This," she said when she finally put the quill down and showed me the sketch. "The virus on your erythrocytes tried to multiply. It doesn't have a shape of a twine like I thought. Or, at least normally it doesn't. When the full moon comes, it grows small, lateral tentacles, for lack of better words. Those tentacles are used to infect other erythrocytes, until all of your blood is infected. But, when they tried to do it in your case, they were absorbed by the leukocytes Fleur had implanted in you long ago. But then they started to act weird. The leukocytes, I mean. They were running around in the sample I had. It looked like they had to get rid of the amount of energy they absorbed by absorbing the virus. I'm not sure how that works, that's why I'm investigating it."

"Okay," I nodded my head, frowning at the sketch. "You say it as if there was a 'but'."

"Hay uno, me atrevo a decir…"

"Mia!"

"Lo siento," she muttered, looking at the sketch. "There is a 'but', at least I think there is one, or more, I'm not sure, because there always is at least one. And I think I know where to find it."

"Well?" I asked with a quirked eyebrow. "Are you going to tell me more about that 'but' or do I have to find out myself?"

"Not just yet," she shook her head slowly, looking me in the eyes. "I want to make sure I am at least partly right about this. Today is the day of the full moon and I want to see what exactly is happening to your blood during that time. I want to make sure my speculations are correct before I tell you something and scare you to death. I don't want you to worry. You have enough of that with your students and others duties."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing special," she shrugged innocently. "Just that you look like you haven't been sleeping for at least a month and I don't like that. You know, you really look nothing good. How do you want to charm Malfoy with those bags under your eyes?"

"Look who's talking," I remarked dryly. She really looked bad enough, as if her 'investigation' took more of her time than she was willing to admit. She had dark bags under her eyes and her normally tanned skin looked way too pale for my liking. Her shoulders were a bit tensed, though she was a bit squad. Her eyes were dark, distant and tired, as if she was constantly somewhere else, as if she was living in another universe. She reminded me of Luna Lovegood and it was more than creepy.

"I have many pretty good reasons to look like this, Granger. You, on the other hand, do have only one, and that's your lack of relaxation. You know what? It's Saturday today, a perfect day to go and take a nice, long, hot bath. You can finally relax a bit and enjoy yourself in hot water all by yourself. You'll have to use the Professor's bathroom, though, because the Room of Requirement is my personal laboratory for tonight."

"But-…"

"No buts, señorita! You're going to relax tonight, understood?" she cut me off, her eyes boring into mine with passionate intensity. I knew she cared about my well-being, as far as I knew, she did it for every one of her friends, and that was exactly the reason I didn't want to listen to her. She cared about me but she didn't give a damn about herself. On the other hand, her idea was more than tempting. Just the idea of hot bath all to myself made me warm. I could really use some alone time in a hot bath. After all I had to do, the tests, teaching, Draco and Fleur, I was spent. And spending some time in hot water could really boost me up.

"Haahh, alright, mum," I muttered, grinning.

"I'm not your mum. If I were, you would have tanned skin, black hair and you would be able to speak Spanish," Mia smirked, getting up from her chair. She gathered all of her things into her leather bag and cracked a smile at me. "Just promise me you'll relax, alright?"

"Will do," I smiled back at her. "Thanks for always taking so much care."

"Don't get used to it. One day, I'll be gone and you'll have to find someone else who's going to take care of you. Better do it soon. You deserve it after everything you did for this world and people in it," she said quietly, the honesty and sadness in her eyes surprised me. "I'm off, then. Take care, Granger."

With that, she left. After her black robe disappeared in between the bookshelves, I turned around and looked the books that surrounded me in search for something I could read 'till it's time for a bath. I hated early baths, and since it was only about five in the afternoon, I had plenty of time kill. Finally, I found something. It was a muggle romantic novel, one of those I didn't enjoy much during the month. But with just a few hours until the full moon…

I started reading the book. At first, it seemed innocent enough, but I was a fast reader and getting to the 'core' of the book wasn't difficult for me. What was difficult however, was keeping my hands out of my pants when I got to the good part. I knew I should be imagining Draco and myself when the main characters in the book got to the 'bedroom stuff', but for some reason, I couldn't. Instead, I imagined myself with other blonde, the blonde that was about six inches taller than me, the blonde with a beautiful smile of those perfectly-shaped, pink lips, the blonde with the most gorgeous sea-blue color full of silver dots in her eyes. It came naturally to me to imagine myself and Fleur doing dirty things. I couldn't help it. Not that I wanted to.

I left the library way after it got dark outside. I went to the kitchen for late dinner. Although I didn't like all the job house-elves had to do, I knew now they wanted to do it and they didn't want to be free, so I let them do a few favors for me. With stomach full of toasts with strawberry jam and cocoa, I left the kitchen and went straight for the Professors' bathroom that was on the fourth floor, behind the portrait of Valerie the Stubborn, who was famous for her thick head. She was a perfect guardian of the bathroom; never let anyone who was not a professor in.

After the portrait made sure I was, in fact, a professor (she still couldn't believe that she was supposed to let me in because she knew me as a student), she let me into the bathroom. I didn't bother to tell her to not let anyone else in, who would come here in the dead of the night? It was already quarter to midnight, nobody who had just a bit of common sense would come in the professors' bathroom in that late hour.

I took out my wand and with a wave of it, I lit every torch in the room, so it was lit by the golden light of the fire. I went through the small hall, tugging the wand back to its place, to the big wooden closet where the towels were kept. I took two of them, both of them white, soft and fluffy, then I slowly made my way to the benches that were right next to the wall. I took off my shoes and socks, the cold tiles felt as if they were burning on my skin. From the benches, I had a nice view of the whole bathroom. It was probably as big as Prefects' bathroom, maybe slightly bigger. The walls formed a big octagon; four of them were covered by tiles in light colors: blue, green and apricot, every one of them with niche, where a Jacuzzi-tub, a massage bathtub, and two saunas were placed; while two of the rest were covered by huge mirrors and the other two were actually windows. In the middle of the room, there was a big bathtub. Now that I think of it, pool would be a better word to describe it. On the edge near the stairs that led into the pool was a bunch of golden water-taps, each of them was to let something else into the bath, whether it was some bathing oil, many kinds of different-colored and scented foams, or a bath-salt already dissolved in hot water. Above the pool, on the ceiling, there was a huge mirror that was charmed to never dim up with the steam of hot water.

I slowly walked to the water-taps, the tapping of my bare feet echoing through the whole room. I kneeled down once I reached my destination, put the towels down and turned few of the taps. I let the hot water run into the tub together with a lavender-scented bath-salt and roses-scented foam. I got up and made my way back to the bench to get undressed. With my shirt halfway gone from my body, the scent hit me full force and I couldn't keep my eyes open. I hadn't realized that I had, subconsciously, chosen _her_ scent. Now it was all around me and it felt as if she was embracing me, caressing my skin with her fingers. My imagination was really something that could surprise even me.

I took off all my clothes, neatly folding them on a pile on the bench, only my wand stayed firmly gripped in my right hand. The warm air full of the light, gentle scent caressed my body gently as I moved closer to the tub. I turned off the water, lay the wand onto the edge of the tub and went down the stairs, into the pool, hissing quietly at how pleasantly hot the water felt. The warm water enveloped my body gently, the foam reaching up to my chin. I smiled like a lazy cat, closing my eyes, letting the water carry me. I took a few rounds around the pool, swimming lazily, because the hot water wasn't really for fast swimming, then I returned to the spot where I left my wand.

I leaned against the wall of the pool, letting my head fall down onto the edge, next to my wand. I looked into the mirror above me, at my body covered by the foam. It was no longer what it used to be. Though I didn't have that curvy body, I couldn't say that I was as flat as a desk, either. I had developed a pair of breasts, firm, not big but not too small. My hips were curved a bit, so my feminine figure was quite visible and my stomach was flat, although not as flat as I wanted it to.

It was a weird feeling, looking at myself into the mirror, no worries filling my head but the ones concerning my looks. I smiled at the thought. Mia wanted me to relax, so I did just that. No school mattered, no students, no nothing. It was just me, hot water, steam and the big, silver moon that shone on me through the window.

I took a deep breath, the scent of lavender and roses filling my nose and blinding my senses. I closed my eyes, an image of the sharp, but smooth features of her beautiful face, the aristocratic contour of her nose and perfectly-shaped, pink, most kissable lips I've ever seen came up in my head. I imagined her pale, flawless skin, her gentle touch on my body, her eyes like ocean in the moonlight boring deeply into mine, reading every my secret, seeing deeply into my soul.

And before I knew it, my hands wandered down. One of them stayed at my breasts, gently caressing the flesh, tugging on the nipples slightly, just like I imagined her doing to me so many times. The other one went southern, on the sensitive skin of my belly, then lower, to the lower part of my abdomen and finally between my legs. I imagined her in front of me, with those observant eyes bored into mine. I imagined that my fingers were actually hers. I wanted the gentle touches on my body to be hers, not my own. I wanted her to pleasure me just like I had pleasured myself to the thought of her for the past four years.

"_Fleur…" _

With that one sight, I heard the portrait door open.

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**TBC! **

**Though it had become a habit of mine, you won't get any preview now! It's because you can imagine what will happen in the next chapter, so… um… yeah… **


	13. The Bathing Time

**Hey there, guys! **

**Thanks for your reviews! It makes me happy to know that you still stick with me and that you like it. You said that you didn't want it to be Draco and to be honest, that thought never even crossed my mind. I like Hermione/Draco pairing, but I'm still a girl/girl type of girl :D And this is a Fleurmione story! So even if there was a Draco/Hermione sex scene (I'm not saying it won't be there), it wouldn't take the whole chapter to write! :D**

**Anyways, you all wanted me to update soon and I did, kind of, since I wanted to wait a little longer. I know you'll probably want to kill me after reading this, but there were reasons for it! One of them is that I was waiting for one special review, but it hadn't shown up yet, so I decided to juts update. **

**Well, enough of that! Enjoy and don't forget to let me know what you think! I really, really want to know how you liked this chapter! **

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_19.11.2002_

_Professors' bathroom_

_Hogwarts_

My breath hitched in my throat when the door opened. I quickly dipped lower, so only my head was visible from all the foam, my hands quickly coming out of the water, the right one grabbed my wand, the left one grabbed the edge of the pool, to help me keep myself in the water. I knew that the portrait of Valerie the Stubborn wouldn't let anyone, who is not a professor in here, but I still felt kind of threatened. It was my privacy! But it was also my fault for not telling the portrait to not to let anyone in…

I heard a silent whisper. I could tell it was woman's voice, and although I didn't know who it belonged to, it sent shivers down my spine. The weird feeling of warmth warped itself around me. It wasn't the warmth from the hot water, though. It was that kind of warmth that made me feel as if I was cuddled up under the warmest of blankets in this world.

The sound of quiet steps echoed inside of the room. And suddenly, there she stood, clad in skin-tight black jeans and a blue shirt that brought up the sea-blue color of her eyes. Her hair was pinned into a ponytail on the back of her head, only a few, shorter strands fell down around her face, bringing up her gentle, almost aristocratic, queen-like features. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me, or better said when she saw my head. She just looked at me for a while with a surprised expression in her face.

"'Ermione-… I didn't know 'ou were 'ere-… well, I'll-… I'll be on my way…" she stuttered, her quiet voice rang in the silence of the room. She turned around quickly and started walking off. It was a huge surprise for me when I realized I didn't want her to go. She was the woman of my dreams, the one that made me orgasm in my imaginations so many times I can't count it. And now, she was here, in the Professors' Bathroom, where we could be completely alone and completely naked, for real.

"W-Wait!" I called out after her. She stopped and looked at me over her right shoulder. I didn't know if it was because of the steam, but her blue eyes now seemed almost completely silver and she had somewhat hopeful look in them. "You could-… I mean, you don't have to-… You can stay, if you want… the bath is big enough and it's not like we're going to-…"

She just looked at me for a while, those now-silver eyes staring at me, gazing deep into my soul. I felt as if she could see the darkest emotions, the deepest secrets, the most guarded desires I've ever had. I could practically feel her in my head, the feeling of her presence slowly engraving itself into me. The confusion that followed the feeling was abnormal, too. It was a weird, buzzing; a foreign feeling I've never had before. As if it wasn't even my own, or, at least, not entirely.

"Are-… are 'ou sure, 'Ermione?" she asked quietly, her voice like warm blanket was now somehow husky and low. The way she purred out my name in that almost raspy voice filled with her French accent sent shivers down my spine and even if I had wanted to say no(but of course I didn't want to), her voice wouldn't allow me to do something like that. She was the woman of my desires, her name was the one I had moaned out just a while ago while pleasuring myself. There was no way I could let her go when I had the perfect opportunity to see her naked and to be with her in such an intimate position.

"Yes," I said nodding my head, my voice came out as a strangulated sound. I felt my throat tighten and my back straighten, as if I wanted to answer her queen-like grace and natural self-confidence with my own, faked ones. I was a proud and confident being, but not when she was around. "Yes, I'm sure. It doesn't bother me at all."

There was a hint of a smile on her face as she nodded her head. She then went to the benches and started to undress herself. First, she unbuttoned the shirt, not too slow, but not fast enough. It looked as if she knew I was watching her and she was trying to put on a show for me. She let the shirt hang on her shoulders, then she took off her jeans. The skin of her never-ending, strong legs was pale and soft-looking, almost glowing in the moonlight and the fire of the torches. I had to bite my lower lip to keep myself from growling out loud. And then, her black panties came down, uncovering her perfectly-shaped, firm ass.

I was sure I have died and gone to Heaven.

She looked at me from above her shoulder, a small smirk crossed her face, her eyes shone with silver light. She quickly looked away and without saying a word she let her shirt fall down from her body, quickly followed by the black bra. I gulped at the sight. Aphrodite would go green with envy if she saw Fleur right now. The French witch looked like the most beautiful goddess, with her naked body almost shining with the golden glow of the candles, though I couldn't get the feeling that she would look way better in just the silver glow of the moonlight out of my head. She was slim and lithe, the curves were exactly where they were needed to be to give her the most gorgeous, feminine look. And when she let her hair lose, I had to dive underwater to keep myself from moaning.

Before I knew it, she was in the bath, slowly swimming to the other side of the pool. Cursing myself for missing the display of her walk, I leaned into the wall behind me and let my head fall down. I had her in the bath with me, yes, but what now? Damned full moon! I can't think at all! If it were a normal day, I would have already come up with dozens of plans of how to scratch the _itch _I had. Well, if it weren't the full moon, I wouldn't have an itch to scratch at all. Okay, maybe I would, but it would be just a teeny-tiny one.

I wasn't sure how to act. A part of me wanted nothing more than grab her and fuck her senseless. And the other part of me wanted it to be more… natural, gentler, more sensual. That other part didn't want to just fuck her. It wanted to make love to her. At that realization my knees buckled slightly and I had to grip the pool-wall behind me to keep myself from diving into the water. Of course she nodded.

"Are 'ou alrig't, 'Ermione?" she asked, her voice warped around me like a warm blanket. I felt shivers run down my spine, although it couldn't possibly be from cold, since the water was hot and it was charmed to stay that way. Before I knew it, she was right in front of me, her now silver eyes with blue dots in them looked right into mine. The only thing I would have to do for our lips to meet was take one step closer and lean into her.

"Y-Yes, I'm quite fine," I stuttered, tearing my gaze from her eyes. She will be the death of me one day.

"Are 'ou completely sure?"

"Yes," I nodded my head, biting my lower lip. "Although, there is something I wanted to ask you."

She looked at me with curiosity in her eyes. I curled my palms into tight balls, silently cursing myself. There wasn't a question I wanted to ask her in my head right in that moment. I just didn't want her to stop talking.

"Oui? W'at is 'zat?"

"Well-…" I bit my lip again, thinking really hard of an interesting question. The knowledge that she is actually naked right in front of me was killing me. "I-… I wanted to know-… Why have you been living the Masquerade when you came back to Hogwarts this year? I know you were yourself four years ago…"

She looked taken aback by my question. A confused look crossed her face for just a moment before it was replaced by calm, yet somewhat tensed one. I noticed how she held herself, straightened, with that queen-like grace that made my mouth water. But I also noticed the soft, almost invisible shaking of her shoulders muscles, as if she struggled to keep herself standing.

"'Zat es an interesting queztion. 'Ou surprised me wi'z eet, 'Ermione," she admitted quietly. She didn't wear a mask, her face was still tensed, but it was natural, it was hers. "And eet will be difficult for me to answer eet. But I will try, just give me a moment to 'zink about eet."

I nodded my head, leaning against the wall even more, to keep myself from jumping her. I can't say that my question didn't surprise me, but now that it was out, I wanted to know her answer. Maybe I'll be able to ask her even more things before I try to get in between her legs.

"Eet es… or, better said, eet was 'ze only way of living I knew," Fleur started after a moment. "Being a Veela esn't easy, 'Ermione. We are beautiful, but also dangerous. Especially 'oung Veelas are very dangerous. My mère told me 'zat… 'zat eet es easier to keep my composure w'en nobody knows 'ze real me, because nobody can 'urt me 'zat way. I was told 'zat eet es 'ze way to protect myself from ozzers and to keep 'zem safe at 'ze same time. I learned living wi'z mask w'en I was very young. And w'en I came to Beauxbatons, nobody minded, because nobody knew me. 'Zat es, until Mia came. She was a very observant kid. She knew some'zing was wrong wi'z me. And after her queztion I started to wonder if 'zere es any ozzer way of living, if 'zere es a way of living wi'zout 'zose masks on. W'en I was 'oung, I 'ad been told 'zat 'ze only person I will be able to be myself around would be my mate. But I started to queztion 'zat statement. I started to search ozzer ways of living. I found 'zat w'en I came to 'Ogwarts. I became 'ze person I wanted to be in 'ze dep'zs of my 'eart. And so I decided to stay en England to keep 'zat, to keep my own face. But after 'ze war… I couldn't stay 'ere. I 'ad to leave. Because of 'zat, I had to put the masks back on. And w'en I came back, I didn't know 'ow to keep 'zem from my face. Now I do."

I took a while to think about her story. Then another question popped up in my head. "So, Veelas have mates?"

"Oui, we do. Eet es very complicated, so don't ask me to explain. Pre'aps ano'zer time."

Nodding in understanding, I looked down, on the foam between our bodies.

"Was Bill your mate?" I asked quietly. It was important for me to know, for some reason. And for some another reason (or was it the same?) I prayed to whatever force that ruled over this world for her answer to be negative.

"Non, 'e wasn't," she said quietly and I let out a breath I didn't even know I had been holding. Bill wasn't her mate. And for some reason, that information was very, very important. I let my eyes close for a little while, then I turned around, gripping the wand in my hand and summoning my hair shampoo. I felt the feeling of warmth in my chest and on the back of my head, I knew she was watching me.

"'Ow es your wand? I forgot to ask about 'zat…"

"Great! It is perfect," I smiled, turning back to her with the shampoo bottle in my hand. "I didn't have a chance to thank you for it-…"

"Don't bo'zer 'ourself wi'z 'zat. I did eet because I wanted to. I love 'ou, I didn't want 'ou to be wi'zout a wand," she smiled at me. I couldn't help but smile back at her. The three special words with that perfect French accent echoed in my head over and over again, until I had a feeling that I had lost myself in them. I hardly realized that I actually opened the bottle. I came out of my trance when Fleur stepped just a little bit closer.

"F-Fleur?"

"Let me," she said quietly, her voice was barely more than a whisper. Her hand came out of the water, reaching for the bottle in my hand, but it never touched it. She looked me in the eyes, her face was tilted down slightly just like mine was tilted up, so we could see each other's eyes. I felt as if I could get lost in those silver eyes of her. I found myself in another trance.

I slowly gave her the bottle. Our fingers brushed and a shiver run down my spine, her skin was cool although we were in a hot bath.

"Turn around," she said, her voice was now husky and low, although it still was gentle and sweet. I didn't want to break the eye-contact, but I didn't have a choice, my body listened to her orders as if I was born to do just that and nothing else. Soon, her cool, long, gentle fingers found their way into my hair. They massaged my scalp, gently pulled at the strands of curly, bushy hair, making me close my eyes. If I could purr, I would be doing just that, because her hands felt perfect in my hair. And as she washed the shampoo-foam out of my hair, gently massaging my scalp the whole time, I knew I didn't want anyone else to wash my hair ever again, but her.

Those soft, gentle fingers found their way from my hair on my neck. They massaged gently, releasing the tight knots that had formed in my muscles. Her fingers worked wonders on my skin and the embers of desire that had smoldered inside of me were slowly turning into an all-consuming wildfire.

She stepped even closer to me; I could almost feel her alabaster skin on my own. And I was dying to feel it. I couldn't keep in the short, quiet moan when her breath hit my neck. We were crossing the line, entering the unknown territory without the way back. It frightened me a little, what if she didn't want that with me? What if she was doing it just because she was my friend and she wanted to help me?

All thoughts left my mind when I felt her soft, sweet lips gently touch the skin of my shoulder. Her hands slowly went down from my neck, in between my shoulder-blades, until they reached my waist. Another peck was planted, this time a bit closer to my neck. Then another one and another one, until she got to the skin behind my ear that made me moan out quietly.

"'Ermione," she purred out my name in that French accent that sent burning shivers of lust down my spine. She pressed her front into my back; I could feel her soft breasts and hardened nipples on my skin. "Ma 'Ermione… Stop me, ma lionne, for bot' of our sakes…"

"I don't want you to stop," I managed to say, my voice was low and hoarse, almost strangulated. My hands fell on hers that were placed on my waist, gently squeezing her cool fingers. I led her left hand upwards, right under my breasts and the other lower, so the tips of her fingers were right above the place that needed her attention the most.

I heard her growl right next to my ear; her hot breath was hitting my skin and sending shivers of arousal down my spine. Her cool hands slipped away from my grasp and before I could say something, her left hand drew a gasp out of my mouth as it touched my breast. She was gentle, kneading the flesh with tenderness, making me gasp and sigh every now and then.

"'Ermione…" she whispered into my ear, caressing the shell of it with her tongue. I leaned back, into her body, bringing my hands under the veil of her hair, to her neck, keeping her on the place. Her mouth found its place on the skin right below my ear and both of her hands came to rest on my breasts, gently playing with the hardened nipples. "Ma chérie… mon ange… mi lionne, ma 'Ermione."

"Fleur!" I moaned as her wicked fingers pinched my nipples. Her mouth traveled to the right side of my neck, gently biting and caressing the skin with her teeth. But her teeth were more like fangs, since they were slightly sharp. A wave of pleasure washed over my body when she got to the bite-mark on my neck. She drew its shape with her tongue, then bit right were the mark was. It was gentle, she just pressed her teeth on the skin, but it made my mind go blank and my body surrender to her completely. It was a wave of ultimate, bottomless delight that caught my body in a strong spasm. It was almost unreal. A throaty, needy moan escaped my mouth.

Her hands left my breasts and grabbed me by the shoulders, turning me around. I didn't even have a chance to say something, her mouth instantly found its place on my lips. I returned the kiss without hesitation, my lips parted for her curious tongue. The kiss was fast, hot and needy, yet it was gentle and passionate. It was everything. It was perfect. It was nothing like Draco's kiss. He had been a gentleman, leading me slowly, as if we were dancing. Fleur was raw and wild, yet she managed to let just right amount of gentleness and passion into the kiss. Draco had been dancing a polite waltz, Fleur was leading a heated tango. And to be honest, I liked her tango much more.

Her hands found their way to my breasts again, her mouth left mine just to attack the skin on my neck and collarbone. And suddenly, I felt her cool fingers brush against my clit. My hips bucked into her hand in search for contact, though my mind was still wondering when had her hand got down there.

She touched me again, this time it was a firmer, more confident touch. It brought a wave of pleasure into my body and a gasp of her name out of my mouth. Her cool, silk-like fingers stroked the place between my legs, sending waves of pure delight through my body. I didn't know when exactly her mouth moved to capture mine in another searing kiss or when my hand moved down, in between her legs. I just knew I found her just as wet as I was, and it wasn't from the water we were in.

"'Ermione!" she gasped into my mouth, then she bit my lower lip gently, her fangs-like-teeth scratching my skin, sending waves of tensed pleasure to join with the swirl of endless delight her fingers were creating just by brushing against my clit.

It didn't take long 'till I felt the familiar knots in my abdomen. Her mouth never left mine, our tongues now danced in a fast, almost desperate and clumsy tango which sent arousal through my body. I felt her fingers press to my clit more firmly. Her legs started to shake and her whole body got caught in a shudder; she was as close to release as I was.

Her tongue left my mouth and made its way to my jaw-line, to my neck, where it stopped. Her lips settled on the bite-mark on the right side of my neck and she started biting it gently, scratching her fangs-like teeth on my skin. That was my undoing. I felt the knots in my belly tighten and then release. My body straightened and tensed, a gasp of her name left my mouth. I didn't know where I was or who I was and the pleasure was so overwhelming that I didn't actually care.

I heard her whisper my name when I fell down from the intense ecstasy. I felt her muscles tighten, her mouth started to move on my skin, I heard a fast muttering of something in French. And it was the sexiest thing I've ever heard.

She breathed out deeply, the hot air hit my neck, sending shivers down my spine. She let her head rest against my shoulder, her lips gently pecked the skin of my neck here and there. Her hands warped around me in a secure embrace that made me feel safe. I nuzzled her hair with my nose; a small smile broke on my lips when I took in the scent that was unquestionably _her._

"'Ow was eet, 'Ermione?" she asked after a while. I smiled and closed my eyes, nuzzling into her neck.

"Perfect."

"Vraiment?" she asked, lifting her head from my shoulder, looking into my eyes. "'Zen 'ou are going to love w'at I 'ave is store for 'ou now."

With that, she grabbed fistful of my hair, pulling at them forcefully, but not strongly enough for it to hurt. It was an act of dominance; I had to surrender to her, so I followed her lead, tilting my head backwards. Her lips crashed on mine with gentle force that made me instantly kiss her back. She then released the grip she had on my hair; both of her hands went to my hips.

Suddenly, she lifted me up with strength I didn't know she had, breaking the kiss. She, somehow, managed to get me out of the tub so I was sitting on its edge with my legs still in the water. She grabbed my knees gently, pushing them apart to make room for herself in between them. She stepped closer to me, dragging the tips of her fingers up my thighs, making me shudder. An evil smirk appeared on her lips, her tongue went out to wet the rosy skin and I found myself licking my own lips.

She kissed my belly, dipping her tongue into my belly-bottom, her hands slowly went right in between my legs. A wave of pleasure shot through me and I couldn't keep in the groans and moans that escaped my mouth the closer she got to the spot that needed her attention the most.

"Are 'ou scared, 'Ermione?" she asked in that low, raspy purr that made the spot between my legs even wetter for her. She looked into my eyes, the gaze was almost as passionate and searing as a kiss from her would have been.

"Never," I breathed out, bringing my hand to her face, caressing her cheek gently. She leaned into the touch for a second, her silver eyes closed.

"Good," she said quietly, kissing the centre of my palm. "I promise 'ou will enjoy 'zis."

And before I knew it, her tongue was in between my legs, licking my clit.

"Fleur!" I moaned out in a wave of electricity-like pleasure that went through me, tickling every nerve in my body. The hand that had been on her cheek found its way into her silvery-blond hair on its own accord, making sure she wouldn't leave the spot between my legs. And it didn't seem she minded. I felt her curious tongue vigorously licking every bit of the sensitive skin. She focused especially on the buddle of nerves; sometimes she took it in between her lips and sucked hard on it, making me almost cry out in pleasure.

"Fleur-… Oh, Fleur-…" I gasped her name again and again, like a mantra that was supposed to get me into that blissful state of mind which some called Nirvana. And with her tongue in between my legs, it wasn't far from happening.

"W'at es eet 'zat 'ou want?" she asked quietly, breaking the contact with my clit. "Tell me, ma lionne."

"I want-… oohhh!" I moaned out as her tongue, again, attacked my clit. "I want your fingers inside!"

"As 'ou wis'."

"Fleur!" I groaned as I felt one of her slim, long, soft, silk-like fingers enter me. My head fell backwards and the grip of my fingers tightened in her hair. I looked up, into the mirror on the ceiling. I saw myself with an expression of complete pleasure on my face and her blond hair between my legs. I moaned, trying to keep it quiet; it was the most erotic thing I've ever seen. I felt her tongue lapping on my clit as if she didn't want to stop, ever again, and after a few thrusts of her finger, another one joined it in its quest of bringing me the pleasure I've never felt before.

It seemed as if eternity had passed 'till I got to the point when falling off the cliff into the sea of ecstasy was just a matter of seconds. I felt my muscles tighten and my body straightened, but my gaze shifted to the silvery-blond hair in between my legs. As if she felt that I was looking at her, she raised her gaze and looked right into my eyes, without ever stopping the movements of her tongue on my clit. That was my second undoing of the night.

I had to bite my hand to keep myself from screaming her name as a feeling of ultimate pleasure washed over me. It was pure release, the tension I had felt in my muscles for a few years now, that I had took as a part of me already, was suddenly gone and my whole body screamed in happiness. And somewhere deep in me something else roared together with the happiness of the release, something warm and pleasant, something I suddenly desired more than just the satisfaction of my body's sexual needs.

I felt her fingers slip away from me and her tongue retreated. She gently grabbed me by the hips and pulled me back into the water. My body, spent and limp, with muscles like jelly that weren't able to hold me up, leaned into her and she embraced me tightly, pressing me against herself. My head fit perfectly under her chin and our bodies went together like two pieces of puzzle. Just being there in her embrace, with my head securely tugged under her chin and with her hands around me, holding me tightly, felt plainly right.

"Fleur-…" I tried to speak, but a gentle kiss on my forehead stopped me.

"Shhh, ma lionne. 'Ou need to rest now. Don't waste 'our energy."

* * *

**TBC!**

**And, though there wasn't any preview the last chapter, I think I can give you one now! **

"_Not exactly, but I did find some things," she admitted, turning her gaze to the ampoule, which was filled with some red liquid. I assumed it was my blood, but I wasn't sure. "Pero no puedo decir que me gustan." _

"_I've spent two years with you, but I still don't understand what you're saying when you're speaking Spanish," I muttered, eyeing the blood in the ampoule. _

"_I would say you should learn it, but there's no reason for you to do it," she shrugged, putting the ampoule in a stand and turning to me. "I found something I really don't like, Hermione. Though I still don't know everything, I can tell you something is very, very wrong." _

"_What exactly is wrong?" I asked. My right hand instantly went to grip the handle of my wand, my jaws clenched. I could feel my heart beat slightly faster. _

"_Do you remember how I told you my theory of what is keeping you from transforming during the full moon?" she asked and I nodded to her question, even though my muscles were all tensed. "Well, I think I could have been right about that, though I really hope I was not." _

"_And why is that? You always want to be right…" _

"_Yes, I do, but not when it means that my best friend could really become a Werewolf." _


	14. A Week Later

**Hey there, guys!**

**I hope you enjoyed the previous chapter! (Take that as you will :D) So, here's the next one and the rollercoaster can start! Everything gets messier and cleaner, than messier again from now on, at least that's what I hope for! So, let me know what you think!**

**Pride365: Well, I can't promise you anything, but you're probably going to kill me after you read this, or the next few chapters :D**

**Red like Roses: I'm glad you liked it! And I'm even happier to know I had inspired someone, it's usually the other way around :D Well, let me know once you post your story, I would like to read it :)**

**PillBugsUnited: Thanks! But, I'll have to let you down. We all know Hermione's stubborn and proud and Fleur is… well, she is Fleur. So, I'm afraid there won't be any 'happily ever after' anytime soon :D**

**And now, please, enjoy! **

* * *

_26.11.2002_

_The Room of Requirement_

_Hogwarts_

I was sitting in a comfortable, red couch in front of a fireplace. The room now looked like a comfortable living-room mixed together with a laboratory and though the scientific part of the room wasn't much to my liking, I kept quiet about it. The Room of Requirement had become my safe-place in the past week. I had been spending every free minute of my days in here, sometimes I had even stayed the night. And it was all just to avoid Fleur.

After what happened in the Professors' Bathroom, hiding from her was the only thing I could do. Of course, I still saw her in the Great Hall, but apart from that I was avoiding every place I knew she could be. She had tried to talk to me a few times already, but I always fled away.

Honestly, I was afraid of talking to her. I had gotten used to the attraction I felt for her and I had gotten used to the idea that it will stay one-sided. But now, that she had actually made me orgasm twice, out of blue, I wasn't sure how to act. Fleur wasn't like Harry, Ron or Mia. I didn't know how she'd act, I didn't know what to expect from her. I didn't know why she had done it, why she had had sex with me in the bathroom. I know I had told her to stay, but she was the one who had made the first move. And though they called me the smartest witch of my age, I didn't know what that means.

Maybe she shared my feelings. But that thought scared me even more than the possibility that she did it just because she felt like it. Because Fleur was unpredictable. I knew the relationship with her would be as unpredictable as she is and I was afraid of that. I had spent my whole life in books and everything that wasn't written in them, everything that didn't have the prescribed rules and clear outcome once you get through the puzzle, was frightening to me. I didn't know how to act, how to react to the fact that I had had sex with the Princess of All Things Perfect, with my long-time crush and with the person I, though I don't know when exactly, fell in love with.

I could tell what my relationship with Draco would be like. He would be a gentleman and I wouldn't have a reason to be unhappy. And yet, that image wasn't what I wanted. Though I was terrified by the unpredictability that was Fleur, the thought of it thrilled me, tempted me. It would be a whole new territory, something unknown to me, something that needed to be studied. And I loved studying.

But it was still something I couldn't do. I couldn't look her in the eyes; I couldn't bring myself to speak with her. After what happened, I feared that I wouldn't be able to hold myself back. And what I feared the most was the possibility that she wouldn't be able to hold herself back. But it had only a little to do with the fact that she was a Veela, I wasn't afraid of the creature in her. Of course, I knew it was the most sexual, territorial, possessive and jealous creature when it came to their mates, but… I wasn't Fleur's mate. I wasn't the person she was supposed to spend her life with. It wasn't me. And it wasn't Bill, apparently.

"Hey, Granger! I can almost hear the rounds turning in your head. What are you thinking about so hard?"

I turned my head to look at Mia. She was wearing a white lab coat, she had some glass ampoule in her hand and a microscope was placed on the table in front of her. She looked like a scientist from some lab in some sci-fi movie, not like the Professor of Care of Magical Creatures. She was looking right at me, her green eyes were somewhat dark, she had bags under them, as if she hadn't slept for month. She also looked thinner than I remember her, her skin was pale and her cheeks sunken, her neck now looked longer and thinner. It was almost as if she was sick.

"Nothing important," I answered, getting up from the couch. "Have you found what you wanted?"

"Not exactly, but I did find some things," she admitted, turning her gaze to the ampoule, which was filled with some red liquid. I assumed it was my blood, but I wasn't sure. "Pero no puedo decir que me gustan."

"I've spent two years with you, but I still don't understand what you're saying when you're speaking Spanish," I muttered, eyeing the blood in the ampoule.

"I would say you should learn it, but there's no reason for you to do it," she shrugged, putting the ampoule in a stand and turning to me. "I found something I really don't like, Hermione. Though I still don't know everything, I can tell you something is very, very wrong."

"What exactly is wrong?" I asked. My right hand instantly went to grip the handle of my wand, my jaws clenched. I could feel my heart beat slightly faster.

"Do you remember how I told you my theory of what is keeping you from transforming during the full moon?" she asked and I nodded to her question, even though my muscles were all tensed. "Well, I think I could have been right about that, though I really hope I was not."

"And why is that? You always want to be right…"

"Yes, I do, but not when it means that my best friend could really become a Werewolf."

"What do you mean? How could I become a Werewolf? That's-… the leukocytes-…"

"That's it. The leukocytes," she said, frowning slightly. She had a dark shadow on her face, as if she was already giving the final speech of my funeral. "You know-… It's really difficult…"

I watched as she gripped the desk of the table and shut her eyes closed.

"Mia? Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm good. But you might like to have a seat before I tell you this."

We both went to the couch and sat down on it. There was a slight expression of relief when she sat down, as if she was happy that she was sitting. She seemed weak now, for some reason, and that was a whole new face of hers. I've never seen her weak, she never was a weak person. And yet, now she looked vulnerable. She, kind of, reminded me of how Fleur had looked four years ago, in the Shell Cottage. But I had to say, Mia wasn't as beautiful as Fleur was, not even close.

"So? What is wrong? What did you find?"

"Do you remember when I said that I thought there was something wrong with the way the leukocytes in you were behaving?"

"You mean that they need to get rid of the energy they absorb by killing the virus?" I asked, trying to search in my memory for everything she had said about my blood.

"Well, yes partly. I had said back then that there was something wrong, but I hadn't been sure, so I hadn't told you."

"And now you will tell me. Right?"

"Yes-… You know how everything that exists must find its end once, right? This goes for cells, too. Normally, when a cell dies, a new one is always created shortly after, sometimes even before, to replace it. For example, when you cut yourself, you kill few the cells that are forming your skin. Through the process of healing, the cells that are still alive in your skin, divide themselves to replace the paced ones," she explained, articulating with her hands here and there. That was weird, because whenever she was explaining something, the explanation was always accompanied by wild gesticulation and facial expressions. "But! Imagine a situation where the cells that die have no way of being replaced, because though they live on one body, they actually come from another one. That means that whatever body they are living in is not able to replace them, thus the function they had in the body will be left unfulfilled, because there won't be any cell to do whatever needs to be done."

"You are saying that if the leukocytes of the creature that bit me, which are keeping me from transforming, died, I would become a Werewolf?"

"It's only a speculation, but I fear that possibility," she admitted quietly, meeting my gaze for just a second, then she turned her head to face the fire. "But, there is something else worrying me. The leukocytes in your body… they are dying."

It took me a while to process what she just said. The leukocytes that were keeping me from becoming a beast were dying. I was about to become a Werewolf, just like Grayback had been. I will become a beast, an animal that needs to be kept away for the safety of everyone else. I will have to leave Hogwarts. I will never see Fleur again. The thought hit me like a sucker punch into stomach. My body tensed and my lungs declined to take the air in. It was as if someone cast a spell on me; I couldn't think, I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe.

"I do hope that I'm wrong, Hermione," Mia said quietly, turning her head back to me. "You should speak to Delacour. But not during the full moon! The virus and the leukocytes are acting weird during that time of the month and I'm not sure what does it do with you."

"I'm not going to talk to her," I said after another short while filled with silence. I saw Mia's surprised expression and her opening mouth, as if she was to say something, but I cut her off before she managed to take a breath. "And it's a little too late for the warning. I met her last week, during the full moon. That's why I'm avoiding her. I-… I had sex with her."

It was her turn to be speechless. She just stared at me with her mouth fully open and eyes wide with surprise, which suppressed the tired look on her face. And when she finally brought herself to speak, it was: "What the fuck, Granger?! What were you thinking?! Sleeping with Fleur Delacour… Eres completamente loca!"

"Why?! Why would I be?!" I almost screamed, getting up from the couch. The tension and frustration that had pent up for the past week decided it was the best time to go out and I couldn't keep myself from yelling at her. "It was just sex! That sort of things happens all the time! Why are you so mad about this?! Is it because we are both women?!"

"Damn it, Granger, have you ever been to Spain?" she asked in a low, threatening voice that made me shut up, though I still was pretty mad. "Half of the population is bisexual and half of the rest are homosexuals! Five of eight of my cousins are lesbians and the other three are gays! I practically grew up between them! It's completely normal to me! No, it's not because you are both women! If she was a normal girl, a witch or not, it doesn't matter, I wouldn't mind! Hell, I would be happy for you! I would tell you to go and get your girl, to be happy with her! But this is Delacour we're talking about! She is a damned Veela, the most sexual creature in this world! She won't let you just go after this! You'll have her on your tail! I don't know what you can expect from her, but I don't think it's anything good! I wanted you to go after her and ask her if she had really bitten you and if she could do it again, to get more of her leukocytes into your system, but after this… Joder!"

"What so wrong about her being a Veela?" I asked, growling deep in my throat. My growls always reminded people of a wolf's growl, but this time even I had a feeling that it was a real wolf growling, not me. It was low, threatening, dangerous and wild. "Or maybe it's not about the fact that she is a Veela."

"What are you talking about-…"

"Maybe it's the fact that you blame her for your mistakes!" I cut her off, still growling.

"What are you talking about?!"

"The Masquerade, what else? You say it was her fault, but it wasn't! She had never told you to wear masks on your face as well! You blame her for your own stupidity! You blame on her all the ears you've been wearing masks, just out of habit! You know it isn't her fault, yet you blame it on her, just to justify your hatred for her and to take the blame off of your shoulders! You rather keep yourself in that stupid conviction that it was her who had put the masks on your face! But I have news for you, Miss Reyes! It was all you! It's all your fault! So stop playing the role of a saint and admit that you've been hating her because of no reason!"

She was silent for a while, the tired expression returned to her face together with something that wanted to be a tough look. I saw her biting the inner side of her lower lip, just like she always did when she was thinking about something very hard or when she didn't want to say something. She knew the whole Masquerade was her fault, not Fleur's. She had known all along, I could tell. Yet, she didn't even think of stopping hating Fleur at all.

"You don't know anything! It was completely her fault! She had put the mask on my face for the first time! I just wanted to help her, I wanted her to be herself and not someone who she was supposed to be! I wanted her to be free! And how did it end up? She chained me with the same shackles she had been chained from the times she had been a little kid! It is completely her fault!" Mia growled out after a long while, getting up from the couch. I saw how her muscles shook to keep her standing, but she didn't seem to notice, as she straightened up and went out of the room in hurry.

I just watched her as she left, gripping the handle of my wand in my right hand. I didn't know where that burst came from. I thought it was supposed to make me feel better, but it only made me feel worse. I felt my mood drop under the freezing-point. I let myself fall back into the couch, my stare went straight to the fire-place. For some reason, I wanted to see Fleur. I wanted to have her near me, so I could hug her and cuddle up to her. I wanted her to be here, because she always was strong and right now I needed that strength. What if I really will become a Werewolf? What then? There wasn't a way I could stay in Hogwarts, but I didn't have any other place to go.

I don't know how long I've spent in the Room of Requirement, crying my eyes out. After I finally recovered from my crying session, I got up and left the room. It was time to talk to Fleur, though I didn't know where to look for her. I thought the Library might be a good idea, she loved books as much as I did.

When I stepped into the huge room filled with books, I noticed it was already dark out. Madam Pince was sitting in her chair, controlling a book, she didn't even lift her head to look who had come in. But I didn't mind, to be honest. I just kept on walking, looking in every direction. My legs carried me to my favorite corner. And there I saw her. Her long, silvery-blond hair that looked so awesomely fucking perfect between my legs were tied up in a loose bum behind her head, a few strands were hanging around her face, highlighting the beautiful, aristocratic contours of her face. Her blue eyes were glued to a book, but there were no bags under them. Her skin looked even more soft and silk-like, her muscles were relaxed. She was just sitting there with her legs under her ass and a completely focused look on her face. There wasn't a trace of the exhaustion I was used to seeing on her face. She was just gorgeous.

I made a few steps towards her, not even releasing that a smile had formed on my lips. I wanted to hug her, to talk to her, to kiss her… The scent of lavender and roses hit my nose, making my legs move faster-…

Until a strong hand grabbed my wrist. I turned around, just to face another blonde, but this one was a board-shouldered, tall man with long, pointy chin and eyes like mercury. Though he had aristocratic features and he was elegant, he missed the grace of Fleur. They might be a bit alike, but he wasn't Fleur. He missed everything that was Fleur. The silvery-blond on his hair wasn't as shiny or as beautifully blond as her was; his aristocratic contours weren't as graceful and as smooth as her were; his lips weren't as thin and as soft-looking as hers; his eyes weren't the beautiful ocean of velar blue with the dots of silver, as if moonlight itself shone in them. He wasn't Fleur. And being with him left a sour taste in my mouth.

"Hermione!" he said my name with a sincere, happy smile on her lips, yet I could see the worry in his eyes as he looked me up and down. "Haven't seen you in a while. How are you? Is everything alright? You look as if you were crying."

"I'm just fine, Draco," I said, trying to put up a smile as well, though I knew it might be a cracked one. "Nothing's wrong, I was just busy."

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking me straight in the eyes.

"Yes, I'm quite certain," I nodded my head.

"That's good, then. If you aren't busy now, would you like to-… I don't know, maybe-… go with me for a little walk?"

I felt the warmth that reminded me of a blanket on the back of my head and the hair on my neck stood straight up. I knew she was watching me and my body wanted nothing than turn around and run into her embrace. I knew she would hug me tight to her body and keep me close and warm. But my mind protested. What if I had a reason to be afraid of her? And… I owed this to Draco. I was neglecting him long enough. So, though I my body, heart and soul screamed at me to go after Fleur, my mind made me nod my head and smile.

"Sure, I would like to go on a walk with you."

I let him drag me out of the Library. The farther away from Fleur I was, the less I felt alive and when we left the castle, I thought my body would just terminate the service. He led me to the lake, where we saw the Squid poking its tentacles out of the water, as if to greet us.

"Now, tell me, what's wrong?" he asked, looking at the seemingly black surface of the lake. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his robe and I did the same, my tight hand instantly gripped the handle of my wand.

"I-…" I started, but I sut myself off right after. What was I supposed to tell him? What could I tell him? I didn't want to lie and say that everything is just fine, but I couldn't say anything… "I had a fight with Mia and it really gets to me. We are both just way too stubborn…"

"Hey, there, there…" she said quietly, his hand sneaking around my waist. He brought me close to him, hugging me tightly. His arms were muscular and strong, I was supposes to feel safe with him. Well, I didn, but it wasn't anything like the safety I felt in Fleur's embrace. "It will be just fine. Mia is an intelligent woman just like you, you two will be just fine. Give it time, sweetheart. That's everything you can do."

I just nodded my head, returning the hug, partly because I felt like it, partly because I knew I was supposed to. I only wished he was right.

* * *

**TBC!**

**And, a little preview! :D**

_I had made sure to avoid Draco for today as well as avoid Fleur, so there was only one thing I could do – meet Mia to get back at least one person who I could talk to. But I wasn't sure I wanted to do it. I didn't know how to act, what to say, what to do around her anymore. _

_But it wasn't her fault, or, at least, not entirely. I was the one who didn't know what to do with herself, not her, and she didn't have a reason to be the target of my outbursts. Sure, when I had gone ballistic the other day, I had a reason to do it. But I don't have it now. I knew she won't say anything bad about Fleur. Somehow, I think that the relationship between Fleur and Mia was slowly repairing. _

_I opened the door and quickly slipped inside, as to not give myself the time to change my mind. The state of the room sure surprised me. It was big, with dark, wooden walls and floor. There was a huge mirror that went along one of the walls and the whole room had nothing, completely nothing in it, except a wooden table in the back of the room, filled with books. There was a rhythmical music filling the whole room. I didn't know if it was Spanish or Arabic, or a mix of those two. It had a great rhythm, made especially for sensual, seductive dancing. And there, in the middle of the room, was Mia, dressed in just a black, tight, sleeveless top and long, black pants. _

_Her body was moving with the rhythm of the music with her hands above her head, bent in elbows, her palms where almost touching her hair, her hips were swaying just perfectly. She was slowly turning around as she danced, her legs moved as if they had mind of their own and knew perfectly where to go and when. The movements of her body could easily get any guy hard and any girl wet for her. _


	15. A Date And A Dance

**Hey there, guys! **

**Sorry for the delay, but there's been things… well, I actually started watching Lost Girl and I got ginda addicted. But that only lasted unlit I found out that Bo and Lauren are together for like one season. I mean, seriously, whenever I like some pairing, they cannot be together! That's mean… I hope the fifth season will be better, that Bo finally sees that Lauren is the only one for her and vice versa… or I can just write a fanfiction of how I imagine their relationship should be from the episode 5 in the 4****th**** season. If anyone knows Lost Girl, tell me if you want me to write something about them. Just beware that there will be some science, romance and a little bit of magic mixed together with some action, so if you like that idea (even if you don't know Lost Girl) feel free to tell me in the review or the PM! **

**Anyways, I don't know if this is what you were expecting, but it's one of the twists and turns in this story, so… uhm, yeah… tell me what you think okay? **

**Pride365:** Thanks! As for snatching them away, that's just what I do. It can never be easy. :D

**Dianadethemyscira:** It's a nice saying, we have it in my country too. But… I don't really like the whole 'talking it out' thing, I lack the action there. You know, when someone tells you something and then you freak out and then everything goes down and back up like on the rollercoaster… Yeah, don't mind me, it's the dead in the night here and I'm really tired, so… :D

**Don't forget to breath:** First thing I want to say is that I really liked your review. Though I disagree with some things, I liked it, it was everything a review should be. But I disagree just because I'm the author and I know the characters in my story in and out, I know why they're doing what they're doing and why they did what they did. I know reasons and feelings, so I can judge the character from other view than you do. You, as a reader, see the character in a different light. Yeah, now I'm talking mostly of Mia. She is a character which can be either loved or hated, there's no way in between and that's how I wanted her to be. But I don't see her choosing the life with masks on her face and blaming it on Fleur as lack of self-confidence or anything you've mentioned. You'll see why exactly she did it later on, it will be explained, but let's just work with what you already know about her. I think it's only normal for people to blame their mistakes on others. And I think it's normal that we run away from the responsibility. It's just what humans do. I don't like the image of heroes Rowling created in the Harry Potter books. For me, a hero isn't someone who will bear anything thrown his way with his head held high and with his mind always working perfectly. For me, a hero isn't someone who just puts others needs in front of his own because it's said it should be done. For me, a hero has a lot of flaws and does a lot of mistakes. But he is still a hero, because he can see them, at some point in his life, and tries to make things right. I made Mia as a human being. I can't say she is normal, because she isn't, but I made her out just like people are out there. I wanted Mia to have her flaws, to not to be perfect. And I think I managed that just right. And the same goes for Hermione. She does what people do – mistakes. She isn't as flawless in this story as Rowling made her out to be. For me, Hermione is a person with a right to do things wrong from time to time.

**Well, anyways, let me know what you think! Enjoy! **

* * *

_10.12.2002_

_Three Broomsticks_

_Hogsmeage_

Even though it has already been almost a month since the Professors' Bathroom, I hadn't approached Fleur yet and I probably wasn't going to do so anytime soon. I had decided to spend my time with Draco and use that time with him to silently watch Fleur from afar. She had changed. Right after the incident, she had seemed refreshed and content, she had acted pretty normal, she had been smiling almost constantly and she was happy. Now, however, she looked sick, with those bags under her eyes and tired expression on her face.

Mia, unfortunately, looked the same as Fleur and I didn't have enough courage to approach her either. Though I desperately wanted to know what was happening and what had already happen, I couldn't bring myself to talk to either of them. And then there was the fact that my Lycanthropy was getting worse. I could almost feel that the leukocytes that had, up until now, kept me from becoming a beast were dying in my body, that I was slowly becoming a beast. I could tell that my reactions were slowly getting more primal and that the growls I occasionally let out during the classes sounded like a real wolf's growls. My sense of smell got better, now I could easily smell the presence of other people and sometimes I could make out who was in the room with me just by their scent.

That had, of course, proved as not really good, since in the Great Hall, Fleur was almost always sitting next to me and her scent was too much to handle. Whenever I sensed her scent, I wanted nothing more than to press her against a wall and have my way with her. The only things I could thank for not letting me do just that were my self-control and the fact that Draco had decided to be almost always with me.

It's not that I minded too much, but sometimes I just wanted my own space and he was always, and I mean ALWAYS on my tail. Though when he saw that I wasn't in a mood, he would be quiet or he would go away, but not too far away. It was almost as if I was his trophy and he had to watch over me to make sure nobody steals me. That was quite funny, since I, kind of, did want to be stolen by one person in particular. And though I had spent the majority of my time with Draco, I could almost always feel the blanket-like warmth somewhere on my body.

"…is totally like Longbottom was when we were students! I mean it! She is a lost case. She can't brew even the easiest potion, and she is a Slytherin!" Draco exclaimed, letting his left hand fall onto the table with a low 'thud'. It was already pith dark outside and all of the students who went to Hogsmeade this Saturday had already returned. I was happy to be sitting in Three Broomsticks after the day out in the cold and snow, but I really started to mind Draco's rambling. He was a bit drunk and it was getting to him. He wasn't rude or anything, he was just a bit noisy and very, very nestling. It was driving me up the wall and I couldn't do anything about it, since he was the only person I was now talking to.

"Well, maybe if you tried to actually help her and not just bark at her for doing something wrong, she might get a hold of it," I shrugged, taking the glass with the fire-whisky in between the fingers of my right hand. I quickly threw the content of the glass into my mouth, gulping it. The liquid was followed by the familiar burning sensation that captured my throat, easing my nerves a bit. It wasn't my first shot of the drink this evening, but I will probably need more to be able to spend the rest of the night with Draco without hexing him into the next week.

I could easily put up with Mia, though she was always playing her role of the uninterested, bored Spanish girl who acted like she knew everything. I could put up with Fleur, although her presence was driving me crazy with sexual desire and want to just hold her. I could put up with almost everyone. But enough is enough and Draco was dangerously nearing the point of 'enough'.

"How can I help her when she does nothing right? I never know when the potion in her cauldron will burst out into my face! Sometime's I'm not sure if she is even brewing a potion or cooking a chicken soup," Draco chuckled quietly at his own joke, but he didn't make me smile. He was referring to Eva Landern, the girl I helped with her Charms homework the other day. I knew she wasn't talented, at least not in Transfiguration, but I never was talking in the way Draco was talking about her now and his words made me angry, for some reason.

"I think she would do just fine if you gave her a gentle push, and a gentle push isn't yelling at her and taking points from her! Honestly, Draco, I thought you wouldn't take points from your own House, but I guess I was wrong," I frowned at him, crossing my hands on my chest. This started out as a nice date, Draco was a gentleman as always, but the more he drank, the worse he got and now I had to hold myself back to not slap him across the face. I wondered how Fleur would be acting if she were him.

"Maybe you could help her, if you want, you have patience for that kind of kids," he shrugged nonchalantly, as if it didn't matter to him. I closed my eyes and straightened in my seat, the right hand, which was on the table, straightened as well, my head crocked to the right a bit. I had to summon every last bit of my patience to not snap at him. He was sweet and kind, but at times like these he really got on my nerves. I felt like blowing a fuse.

I suddenly started to wonder what kind of father he would be. Up until now I've thought he would be a great parent, who will love his child endlessly and give his family everything they would ever need. But now, seeing him like this, all grumpy and disinterested, I doubted his abilities as a father. But my thoughts soon shifted to Fleur and the questions about her parent side.

I shook my head to clear my mind a bit. Ever since the incident in the Profesors' Bathroom I had all kinds of thoughts about Fleur, but what frightened me was the fact that they weren't just perverse fantasies anymore. I was thinking more about the normal, every-day life with her. I wondered if she got up with a bed-hair; if she was a morning person or if she was able to sleep through the day; if she drunk her coffee with sugar or milk; if it took her too long to get herself to look so perfectly, stunningly gorgeous; if she liked to have dinner with her family; if she liked to read before going to sleep… For some reason, I wanted to know all that and so much more about her. I wanted to know the real her.

"Okay, okay, I get it, you don't have to look like eating me alive," he chuckled quietly. "Though, I can't say I would mind you eating me."

And I couldn't say I would mind Fleur eating me out, well, we cannot always have what we want, can we? But, maybe, if I go and do something like that with him, just maybe I'll be able to forget about Fleur's wicked tongue and her long, slender fingers that felt so damn good inside of me…

"You're awfully quiet, Granger. But you know, the silence meant an assent, right?" he asked with a cocky grin on his face.

"You wish, Malfoy," I snorted, trying to put it off like a joke. I still couldn't get the idea of trying to forget everything that happened between me and Fleur out of my head and I was sure Draco would be the best person to help me with my little problem. I just wasn't sure if I really wanted to do this. I was attracted to Fleur (by now it was more than just attraction, I mean, my stomach is always full of butterflies when I see her and she is the last thing I think of when I go to sleep every night), sure, but I was attracted to Draco, too. Though, to be honest, I didn't know it that attraction was enough to make me feel differently about Fleur.

But there could only be two outcomes, right? First – me sleeping with Draco could lead to me forgetting my feelings for the French Veela and living my maybe-not-so-happy, but content life with Draco; or second – it could only make it clearer for me that I, actually, was head over heels for the blond witch and it could give me enough courage to come out of the closet about it. Right?

So, there wasn't anything to lose. Was there? No, no, there wasn't. Though every cell in my body seemed to disagree with the idea of giving myself to someone other than Fleur, I had to try. I had to know if I could ever get the thoughts of her out of my mind.

"So you don't want to keep me a company somewhere more privet?" he asked almost regretfully. His head lowered and he looked at me with almost puppy-dog eyes. He wasn't bad at convincing people, but it would take much more fire-whisky and nice words for him to convince me to do something like this if there wasn't any sideway reason for me to do it.

"Actually," I started quietly, meeting his gaze with what I hoped was a seductive, flirty look. "I think I would like that."

There was a look of triumph in his face before he stood up and rushed to the front of the pub to pay for us. I downed my butterbear and stood up myself. I was a bit tipsy (seriously, only a little bit), I could feel that. And another thing I could feel before leaving the room was the blanket-like warmth on my back.

We hurried back into the castle. Well, Draco hurried, I just walked next to him, trying to not fall down on the snow with him dragging and nagging me to go faster. But no matter what I did, no matter how much snow-flakes fell down on us, I couldn't get the feeling of that warmth off of me. I had charmed my coat to be especially warm, so I wouldn't freeze somewhere in a cold like this one, but I knew it wasn't that. It was the warmth of Fleur's look, I could tell. She was following us. No, she was following me, especially.

Could it be that I meant something to her? Maybe I'll even make her jealous with this. Maybe she'll come to my rescue before Draco will have the chance to take me to the bed with him. Maybe she will be my knight in shining armor.

But my hopes soon died down. We reached the castle and Draco took me straight to his room. We weren't even inside when his lips touched mine. I tried to resist, to wait for Fleur to come and take me away. But she didn't and though I still felt her gaze on me, I couldn't do anything but return the kiss Draco was giving me. I made the thoughts of how warm her gaze was on my skin and how gentle she was with me hide in the deepest parts of my mind, concentrating on what was happening. If this was to forget Fleur, then I'll do a damn good job with forgetting her at least for tonight!

I felt Draco's touch on my waist. He placed his hands there, slowly caressing little bits of my skin with his thumb. His hands were warm and I could feel the roughness of them even through the woolen sweater I was wearing under the cloak. But his hands were too big, too warm and the skin on them was too rough. I missed the cool, soft skin of Fleur's long, slender fingers. I missed the softness of her lips against mine and the tango her tongue have been dancing in my mouth.

Draco, though he was a bit drunk, was leading our kiss in a way that was way too different from what I desired; it was almost unpleasant. His hands slowly came up my torso to knead my breasts through the fabric of my sweater. If it were Fleur kissing me, I wouldn't be able to think about anything. But with him, I was way too aware of the fact that we were, actually, still in the corridor and that Fleur was watching me. I quickly opened the door and let Draco take me into his room.

_11.12.2002_

_The Room of Requirement _

_Hogwarts_

I was standing in front of the door that led to the Room of Requirement with the weird blanket-like warmth all over my body. Though I hadn't thought that Mia would want to speak with me so soon after our fight, she had given me a note this morning, saying to meet her here, at seven o'clock. It was six fifty-five and I still wasn't sure if I wanted to get inside the room. Especially after what happened yesterday with Draco.

I had sex with him. And though Mia would happily send me into his arms instead of Fleurs, I knew she wouldn't be happy if she found out. The truth was that I wasn't happy with it, either. It hadn't helped me to forget Fleur, quite the opposite. Now I knew that I will never sleep with anyone but the Fleur Delacour. I was too deeply in love with her to actually enjoy Draco's attention. And though we had went three rounds, he hadn't brought me to an orgasm, not even once. It wasn't because of the lack of effort from his part, no, he was trying really hard. But he wasn't Fleur and that fact had condemned him to failure.

Of course, I had used the contraception charms on myself and him, just to make sure. I didn't want to have kids, not with him. I couldn't keep the thought of how he was acting towards that little Slytherin girl out of my head. What if I got pregnant with his child, and he would act the same toward his own flesh and blood? I couldn't stand the thought of someone acting in that way towards my child.

I had made sure to avoid Draco for today as well as avoid Fleur, so there was only one thing I could do – meet Mia to get back at least one person who I could talk to. But I wasn't sure I wanted to do it. I didn't know how to act, what to say, what to do around her anymore.

But it wasn't her fault, or, at least, not entirely. I was the one who didn't know what to do with herself, not her, and she didn't have a reason to be the target of my outbursts. Sure, when I had gone ballistic the other day, I had a reason to do it. But I don't have it now. I knew she won't say anything bad about Fleur. Somehow, I think that the relationship between Fleur and Mia was slowly repairing.

I opened the door and quickly slipped inside, as to not give myself the time to change my mind. The state of the room sure surprised me. It was big, with dark, wooden walls and floor. There was a huge mirror that went along one of the walls and the whole room had nothing, completely nothing in it, except a wooden table in the back of the room, filled with books. There was a rhythmical music filling the whole room. I didn't know if it was Spanish or Arabic, or a mix of those two. It had a great rhythm, made especially for sensual, seductive dancing. And there, in the middle of the room, was Mia, dressed in just a black, tight, sleeveless top and long, black pants.

Her body was moving with the rhythm of the music with her hands above her head, bent in elbows, her palms where almost touching her hair, her hips were swaying just perfectly. She was slowly turning around as she danced, her legs moved as if they had mind of their own and knew perfectly where to go and when. The movements of her body could easily get any guy hard and any girl wet for her.

She didn't stop dancing when I got into the room and I found the reason why as soon as she turned to me while dancing. Her eyes were closed and though there was an expression of complete relaxation, I knew she was concentrating on the music and on her movements. And I couldn't quite bring myself to disturb her. It wasn't that I wanted to watch her that much (she wasn't Fleur, so, um, yeah), but I've never seen her so relaxed. She wasn't wearing a mask and I wanted to remember that moment.

Finally, the song came to an end and so did her dancing, though she still was swaying her hips to the beats of the song that was no longer playing. It looked as if she was completely overtaken by the rhythm and the dancing. It was a whole new part of her, a part that didn't quite fit in the image I had of her. But, when thought of it a bit more, it actually fit in perfectly.

"Oh, Hermione! Is it seven already?" she asked when she noticed me. Her body stilled and her eyes went wide open, almost as if she was shocked to see me. "I'm sorry, I-… I didn't realize it was that late, I was just-…"

"Hey, it's okay," I smiled, walking closer to her. "I'm happy to see that you finally do something that makes you happy. And besides, you were hot."

She just looked away, I could just guess she felt too embarrassed to look at me at that moment, and I noticed the sheepish expression on her face. I felt the blanket-like warmth on the back of my head, its intensity slowly grew on my skin. I frowned at that, taking another few steps closer to Mia. And the warmth turned into almost angry heat. But that was impossible! The warmth always came from Fleur's gaze, or at least I had this connection between them fixated in my head. But Fleur wasn't around, was she? No, of course she wasn't. She couldn't be.

"Anyways, aren't you curious about why I called you here?" Mia asked, quickly walking further into the room. She went straight for the table, taking one of the books in her hands. I noticed it was the black notebook I had given her on her birthday.

"You know I am," I nodded, walking up to her. I still felt the heat on the back of my head and it became difficult to concentrate on my surroundings. Since the warmth was always connected to Fleur in my head, I couldn't stop thinking of her. And suddenly, I wanted her to be in the room with us. No, I wanted her to be with me. Just with me. "So, what is the reason for us to dig in the war-hatchet so soon? Usually it takes you longer to get through your pride."

"Don't make me snap on you, Granger," she growled as she searched through the notebook. I knew she wasn't serious, not just yet, because she didn't look at me at all.

"I'm not," I shrugged, leaning onto the table. I didn't believe my body, especially my legs, to function correctly when the memory of Professors' bathroom filled my mind. I had to sit up onto the table to make sure my knees won't buckle under me. "I'm just being honest with you, the same thing you do with me."

"I wouldn't say that if I were you," she muttered, so I almost didn't catch it. It helped clear my mind a bit for a minute. She was acting weirder and weirder, and though she always was a rather difficult person, she never did something without a good reason. But the things she had said, the cues she had hid in the words, it was way too confusing and too illogical for her to do.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Hm? What?" she asked, finally lifting her head. "Oh, yeah, I wanted to talk to you!"

"I knew that," I frowned at her. "But what were-…"

"I want you to talk to Delacour!"

My mind went blank and my jaw dropped. I couldn't move; I could just stare at her. This was wrong. Mia wasn't supposed to make me go after Fleur! She was supposed to keep me away from her! Because if she won't, I will go after the French witch and lose myself in the endless pleasure of her presence. I wanted nothing more than to go after her. But the fact that Mia told me to do so kept me from doing it. I had to find out why she wanted that, first.

"Who are you and what have you done to Mia?" I asked after my voice decided to cooperate with me again. I could already imagine a few scenarios of what could have made Mia act like this. One of them was that Fleur had wanted to fuck me again, so she brewed a Polyjuice potion, gave me the note and was actually talking to me now. Well, if that were true, it would explain the blanket-like warmth I felt on my body.

"Look, I just want to help you, Granger. Dios mío, ¿por qué no lo ves? Si ella es, en verdad, quien te ha morado, es lógico que tienes que hablar con ella. ¡Puede ser la única persona que puede ayudarte! Si no hablarás con ella… no quiero pensar a lo que puede suceder…"

"I got lost after you had said my name," I admitted, the thought of the Polyjuice potion quickly shattering in my mind. Though I knew Fleur could understand Spanish, I didn't know if she could speak it so quickly and fluently.

"Lo siento, señorita," she smiled up at me and put the notebook down. There were a few sketches with some side notes on the parchment. I recognized the cells, but I didn't understand the words. It wasn't that they were small or that Mia's handwriting was a real mess. The notes were, actually, in Spanish. "But, you see-… I still don't believe it wasn't Delacour who had bitten you. And since the leukocytes in your body are dying and the virus will grow, since the full moon is coming, I don't see any other way out of this than her. You need to speak with her, she needs to bite you in order to stop the virus. I know you probably don't want to, but-… there's no other way, Hermione."

I nodded my head, still thinking about her words. She was right, if it really way Fleur who had bitten me, there was no other way for me to survive without becoming the beast I've always feared. She had to bite me. But though something inside of me was telling me I will thoroughly enjoy having her fangs inside of my neck, I knew I won't talk to her just yet.

* * *

**TBC!**

**And, a little preview!**

_I stopped dead in my tracks. I didn't see what was around me anymore, I couldn't breathe. The fear in me, the despair and longing, the sadness and love I felt suddenly gathered up in me and clenched my throat with their weight. It felt as if I was drowning in water with no way of getting out of it. There was no way for me to save myself. I will die under the weight of my own emotions. _

_There was a weird feeling in the back of my mind, a faint light of hope shining in the distance. It wasn't mine. It belonged to the person I was linked to. But it seemed to save me, because suddenly, the weight of my emotions lifted off of me and I could breathe again. _

_It all happened just in my head. I was actually surprised to see that the corridor was clear as ever and that it was, actually, the same corridor I had used to walk through to get to the Charms classroom. I looked around for a bit, just to make sure I knew where I was. The portraits on the walls were sound asleep and I noticed that Fleur didn't yet put the decorations in here, though she was doing a very good job in other parts of the castle. _

_Fleur…_


End file.
